Religious  Life  in 
ylmerica 

/I  Record  of  Personal  Observation 


BR  515  .A2  1903 
Abbott,  Ernest  Hamlin. 
Religious  life  in  America 


EELIGIOUS  LIFE 
m  AMERICA 


RELIGIOUS  LIFE   /^'IS!^ 
IN  AMERICA       t/uN  .31911 


A  RECORD  OF  PERSONAL   OBSERVATION 


BY 
ERISTEST  HAMLm  ABBOTT 


NEW  YORK 

THE  OUTLOOK    COMPANY 

1903 


Copyriglit,  1902,  by 
The  Odtlook  Compani 


Published  November,  1903 
Reprinted  April,  VMS 


THE  DEVINNE  PHE68 


TO   MY   FATHER 


co:n^tents 


PAGE 


I  The  Workingman  and  the  Church    .    .      l 

II  The  Church  and  the  Workingman  .    .    25 

III  A  Virginia  Country  Rector     ....    51 

IV  Religious  Tendencies  of  the  Negro    .    79 
V  New  Tendencies  in  the  Old  South.    .  105 

VI    New  Orleans 141 

VII  The  Edge  of  the  Southwest   .    .    .    .171 

VIII    Kansas 197 

IX    The  Eastern  West 217 

X  The  Revolt  against  Convention  .    .    .  237 

XI    The  Leaven  and  the  Lump 261 

XII    New  Sects  and  Old 283 

XIII  Colorado 311 

XIV  Satis  Superque 339 

vii 


PEEFACE 

IJNT  the  year  1901,  at  the  request  of  The  Out- 
look, I  undertook  a  journey  through  parts 
of  the  United  States  for  the  purpose  of  making, 
and  recording  in  a  series  of  articles,  observa- 
tions of  religious  life  in  America.  This  book  is 
the  record  of  that  journey.  It  is  not  a  study  in 
methods  of  church  activity.  IN^or  is  it  a  record 
of  scientific  investigation.  All  possibility  of 
any  result  at  all  scientific  was  at  once  eliminated 
by  these  two  conditions  of  the  trip  —  on  the  one 
hand,  the  field  traversed,  covering  eighteen 
States  of  the  Union  scattered  through  a  territory 
bounded  by  Canada,  the  Atlantic  Ocean,  the 
Gulf  of  Mexico,  and  the  Rocky  Mountains ;  on 
the  other  hand,  the  time,  scarcely  more  than 
three  months.     Keither  is  this  book  an  essay  on 

ix 


X  PREFACE 

the  deeper  spiritual  life  of  the  American  people. 
That  there  is  such  deeper  spiritual  life  may,  I 
think,  be  fairly  inferred  from  the  facts  here  re- 
corded, and  its  nature  may  in  some  degree  be  at 
least  surmised;  but  it  would  be  presumption  to 
suppose  that  in  three  months  that  could  be  dis- 
covered in  a  nation  by  a  traveler  w^hich  in  an 
individual  may  be  hidden  for  years  from  the 
closest  friend.  Besides,  it  will  be  readily  under- 
stood by  readers  that  it  is  generally  the  most 
significant  personal  experiences  which  are  not 
subject  for  public  discussion.  We  must, 
then,  be  content,  my  readers  and  I,  with  cer- 
tain deliberately  accepted  limitations:  we 
must  not  expect  to  find  anything  which  lies 
much  below  the  surface,  and  we  must  not  count 
on  establishing  any  great  conclusion  by  scien- 
tific method.  Whatever  value  this  book  will 
have  must  consist  in  the  fact  that  it  is  a  record 
of  occurrences  pertaining  to  religion  in  America 
in  the  first  year  of  the  twentieth  century  as 
they  were  observed  by  one  traveler  —  as  indeed 
they  might  have  been  observed  by  any  one  of 
ordinary  learning  and  discernment. 


PREFACE  xi 

To  the  Rev.  F.  S.  Spalding,  rector  of  St. 
Paul's  Church,  Erie,  Pennsylvania,  I  am  glad 
to  express  my  obligation  for  the  idea  which  sug- 
gested this  journey  of  observation.  Also  to 
the  many  who,  by  cordial  hospitahty,  generous 
offer  of  time,  frank  and  unreserved  expressions 
of  opinion  and  statements  of  fact,  by  coopera- 
tion indeed  in  many  ways,  made  it  easy  for  me 
to  carry  out  the  plan  of  the  journey,  I  renew 
my  thanks.  Not  least  to  the  known  and 
unknown  correspondents  and  critics  who,  by 
letters,  editorial  comments,  and  in  some  cases 
speeches,  have  supplied  information  on  the  sub- 
jects described  and  discussed  in  my  articles,  I 
acknowledge  my  indebtedness.  This  informa- 
tion has  been  of  value  to  me  in  revising  the  arti- 
cles for  their  publication  in  the  present  form. 
Words  of  commendation  and  corroboration 
have  in  a  few  instances  led  me  to  change  state- 
ments from  a  tentative  to  an  unqualified  form. 
Certain  corrections  have  enabled  me  to  make 
changes  in  the  direction  of  accuracy.  And 
adverse  criticisms,  some  vehement,  many  in 
good  spirit,  and  a  few  dehghtfully  brisk  of  wit, 


xii  PREFACE 

have  indicated  a  number  of  passages  where  the 
meaning  evidently  was  not  perfectly  clear  or 
the  phraseology  infelicitous.  I  have  availed 
myself  of  these  criticisms  in  modifying  or 
amplifying  some  statements,  so  that  they  will 
be,  I  think,  more  intelligible. 

I^ow  I  invite  my  readers  to  set  out  upon  that 
road  over  which  I  have  journeyed.  I  hope  they 
may  have  on  the  way  some  of  the  same  enjoy- 
ment and  gain  some  of  the  same  profit  that  I 
received  as  I  traveled  over  it. 

E.  H.  A. 

CORNWALL-ON-HUDSON, 

October,  1902. 


THE  WORKIKGMAN  AND 
THE  CHURCH 


THE  WOKKINGMAK  AKD 
THE  CHURCH 

TTTHEN  I  reached  Baltimore,  four  facts 
T  T  were  especially  associated  in  my  mind 
with  that  city:  that  it  is  the  center  of  Roman 
Catholicism  in  America;  that  it  is  the  seat  of 
Johns  Hopkins  University;  that  it  is  famous  for 
the  beauty  and  mise  elegante  of  its  women ;  and 
that  it  is  to  terrapin  and  wild  duck  what  Paris 
is  said  to  be  to  Americans  —  the  place  to  which 
they  are  sure  to  go  if  they  are  good.  It  was, 
therefore,  one  of  the  last  places  to  which  I 
should  have  chosen  to  go  in  order  to  study  in- 
dustrial problems. 

I  did  stop  at  Baltimore  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  some  information  from  the  authorities 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  and  incidentally 
of  seeing  the  President  of  the  University;  as 

3 


4  THE  WORKINGMAN 

a  matter  of  fact,  I  remained  several  days  be- 
cause of  the  acquaintance  I  made  with  work- 
ingmen  of  the  city.  Most  unexpectedly,  my 
visit  to  Baltimore  resulted  in  my  getting  one 
of  the  points  of  view  of  the  organized  laborers 
for  which  I  had  no  such  chance  in  any  other 
place. 

The  General  Secretary  of  the  Baltimore 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  put  me  in 
the  way  of  meeting  a  number  of  men  connected 
with  the  labor  unions  of  Baltimore.  This  fact 
did  not  occasion  in  me  such  surprise  as  it  would 
have  if  it  had  occurred  later  in  my  trip,  for 
generally  I  found  the  secretaries  of  these  Asso- 
ciations out  of  touch  (though  I  believe  not  out 
of  sympathy)  with  the  workingmen.  Here, 
however,  as  in  one  or  two  other  places,  I  found 
an  exception  —  a  man  of  evident  good  breeding, 
strong  personality,  businesslike  ways,  broad 
sympathies,  alert  mind  —  the  kind  of  true  gen- 
tleman we  Americans  are  proud  to  think  only 
a  democracy  can  produce.  It  was  merely  by 
chance  that  I  happened  to  go  to  the  Associa- 
tion, and,  when  I  had  met  the  Secretary,  again 
it  was  merely  by  chance  that  in  conversation  I 
inquired  about  the  relation  of  the  workingmen 
of  Baltimore  to  the  Association.     He  confessed 


AND  THE   CHURCH  5 

that  there  were  but  few  workingmen  among 
the  members.  I^aturally,  not  many  men  who 
worked  all  day  with  their  hands  would  be  likely 
to  care  for  exercise  in  the  gymnasium.  A  few 
every  year  took  advantage  of  the  evening 
classes.  Almost  none  were  engaged  in  the 
distinctively  religious  work  of  the  Association. 
This  was  a  matter  of  concern  to  him.  That  it 
was  due  to  indifference  on  his  part  was  con- 
tradicted by  his  whole  spirit.  The  very  fact 
that  our  conversation  naturally  turned  to  the 
subject  of  the  religious  feeling  of  the  working- 
man  was  sufficient  proof  of  that.  There  seemed 
to  be  a  chasm  between  the  Association  and  the 
workingman  which  no  devising  on  his  part  had 
yet  succeeded  in  bridging.  How  natural  it  was 
for  the  workingmen  to  be  found  on  the  one  side 
of  this  chasm  and  the  Association  on  the  other 
was  bi'ought  out  by  what  this  Secretary  told  me 
of  a  political  controversy  then  still  unsettled. 

There  was  in  Baltimore  a  rather  strict  Sun- 
day law.  It  forbade  almost  all  sales  on  Sunday ; 
it  not  only  prohibited  the  sale  of  liquor,  but  also 
of  cigars,  soda-water,  and  newspapers  at  the 
small  shops.  For  some  time  that  part  of  the 
law  pertaining  to  the  small  shops  had  remained 
unenforced.     Then  began  a  movement  for  gen- 


6  THE  WORKINGMAN 

eral  enforcement  of  law  —  one  of  those  spasms 
of  public  virtue  characteristic  of  America  —  and 
these  small  shops  were  shut  up.  Thereupon 
came  this  curious  division  of  public  sentiment. 
On  the  one  side  were  the  labor  unions  and  what 
is  called  the  plain  people,  who  desired  that  that 
part  of  the  law  which  pertained  to  the  small 
shops  should  be  repealed.  On  the  other  side 
were  the  churches  and  the  ministers  and  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  who  de- 
sired to  maintain  the  law  on  the  statute-books 
unchanged.  Here  was  an  issue  distinctly  joined 
between  what  we  ma}^  call  the  religious  party 
and  the  unreligious  party.  The  significance  of 
the  issue  is  in  the  motives  which  lay  behind  the 
two  positions.  The  religious  party  did  not  have 
any  animosity  toward  the  small  shops  —  in  fact, 
they  were  not  by  any  means  united  that  the 
shops  should  be  closed;  but  they  were  concerned 
in  the  preservation  of  an  institution  —  the  Puri- 
tan Sabbath  —  and  feared  the  weakening  of  the 
law  that  maintained  that  institution,  preferring 
to  leave  the  law  as  it  was,  partly  unenforced, 
than  to  endanger  the  whole  law  by  the  repeal  of 
any  portion.  This  was  the  position  of  the  Sec- 
retary as  he  stated  it  to  me.  The  other  party 
were  in  opposition  to  these  religious  people,  not 


AND   THE   CHUECH  7 

because  they  did  not  care  for  a  quiet,  uncom- 
mercial Sunday,  but  because  they  cared  more 
for  what  they  beheved  to  be  the  welfare  of  the 
small  shopkeepers,  who  needed  all  the  custom 
they  could  get.  Behind  one  party  was  the 
power  of  the  strong  public  opinion  which  in 
America  traditionally  supports  Sunday  obser- 
vance. Behind  the  other  was  that  more  nearly 
universal  power  of  men's  direct  interest  in  the 
concerns  of  their  neighbors.  It  is  a  mistake  to 
think  that  ethical  considerations  in  every  con- 
flict of  this  sort  are  all  on  one  side.  Certainly 
in  this  instance  there  was  some  moral  earnestness 
on  each  side;  only  on  one  side  it  was  the  con- 
scious moral  earnestness  of  men  not  altogether 
enlightened  fighting  to  preserve  an  institution, 
while  on  the  other  side  it  was  the  unconscious 

—  but  therefore  perhaps  the  more  praiseworthy 

—  moral  earnestness  of  men  not  altogether 
enlightened  either,  but  imbued  with  strong 
personal  human  sympathy. 

Aroused  as  I  was  by  the  conversation  I  had 
with  the  Secretary  of  the  Young  Men's  Chris- 
tian Association,  I  was  glad  to  accept  his  sug- 
gestion that  he  should  put  me  in  the  way  of 
meeting  some  of  the  leaders  among  the  work- 
ingmen.     For  this  purpose  he  introduced  me 


8  THE  WORKINGMAN 

to  a  Methodist  minister  whom  he  knew  to  be 
acquainted  with  members  of  the  trades  unions. 

It  was  Monday  morning,  the  time  for  minis- 
ters' meetings.  We  went  together  to  the  gath- 
ering-place of  the  Methodists.  It  was  in  a 
small  hall  over  a  book-store.  As  we  went  up 
the  stairs  I  heard  the  sound  of  loud  voices  en- 
gaged in  what  seemed  to  be  rather  violent 
discussion.  As  I  waited  in  the  anteroom  for 
the  Secretary  to  find  the  minister  we  came  to 
see,  I  could  hear  a  man  vigorously  making 
some  sort  of  self-defense.  He  was  frequently 
interrupted  by  others  in  contradiction.  When 
the  minister  whom  we  had  come  to  see  ap- 
peared, he  at  once  apologized  for  the  heat  of 
the  discussion  in  which  his  "  brethren  "  were 
engaged. 

It  transpired  that  the  controversy  was  about 
a  matter  of  "transfers."  Some  of  the  more 
"  desirable "  churches  of  the  city  —  that  is, 
churches  paying  the  highest  salaries  and  con- 
taining the  most  influential  people  socially — 
had  been  filled  by  men  from  outside  the  city. 
Against  this  injustice,  as  they  apparently 
counted  it,  some  of  the  ministers  of  less  "  desira- 
ble" churches  were  protesting;  they  believed 
that  they  themselves  ought  to  have  these  more 


AND   THE   CHUKCH  9 

"  desirable  "  places  before  outsiders.  The  al- 
tercation in  the  hall  became  so  noisy,  and  its 
character  so  distracting,  that  we  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  carry  on  any  conversation  in  the  ante- 
room. I  have  been  assured  that  such  an 
incident  ought  not  to  be  considered  as  of  com- 
mon occurrence;  and  that,  moreover,  in  the 
eyes  of  those  who  value  the  Methodist  polity 
as  an  essential  in  efficient  Christian  activity,  it 
looked  like  a  fight  for  principle.  To  the  work- 
ingman,  however,  whose  interest  in  machinery 
does  not  extend  to  the  ecclesiastical  variety,  it 
is  not  easy  to  explain  that  there  is  a  moral  dis- 
tinction between  a  struggle  by  ministers  for 
higher  salaries  and  a  struggle  by  workingmen 
for  higher  wages.  One  "  outsider,"  at  any 
rate,  thought  he  found  in  the  controversy  at 
the  Monday  meeting  some  light  on  that  chasm 
between  the  workingman  and  the  churches. 

In  less  boisterous  surroundings  I  had  a  brief 
conversation  with  this  minister  whose  distinc- 
tion was  that  he  actually  was  well  acquainted 
with  some  members  of  the  labor  unions  and 
understood  their  point  of  view.  He  was  per- 
fectly candid  in  his  opinion  that  the  chief 
reason  for  the  alienation  of  most  workingmen 
from  the  churches  was  the  fact  that,  as  a  rule. 


10  THE   WORKINGMAN 

ministers  were  not  in  sympathy  with  the  under 
dog.  He  instanced  a  great  strike  there  in  Bal- 
timore on  the  trolley  lines.  In  his  opinion  the 
men  had  a  grievance.  The  question  of  putting 
vestibules  on  the  cars  was  involved.  The  com- 
pany brought  a  number  of  its  employees  into 
the  council-chamber  where  an  investigation 
was  being  carried  on;  and  when  the  question 
was  put  to  them,  their  hands,  bleeding  from 
exposure,  went  up — against  the  vestibules. 
"  A  most  flagrant  piece  of  intimidation !  "  he 
exclaimed.  In  spite  of  such  incidents  as  this, 
he  said,  there  were  only  two  other  ministers 
besides  himself  who  publicly  spoke  of  it  —  one 
of  whom  was  Dr.  Babcock,  honored  there,  as 
later  in  ^N^ew  York,  for  his  virility  and  hmnan 
feeling.  The  subject  was  brought  up  at  the 
conference,  whereupon  a  "  brother "  {sic) 
brushed  it  aside  by  saying,  "  It  is  our  business 
simply  to  preach  the  Gospel."  The  unions 
felt,  justly  or  unjustly,  that  the  churches  didn't 
care.  In  brief,  as  he  put  it,  he  believed  the 
churches  of  all  denominations  were  "  weak 
between  Sundays." 

I  must  confess  this  account  of  ministerial 
professionalism  intensified  my  dislike  of  the 
cant   term   "brother."      It   made   me   wonder 


AND   THE   CHUECH  11 

whether  the  workingmen  would  not  be  justified 
in  asking  for  a  living  parable  in  answer  to  the 
question,  "  Who  is  my  '  brother '  ?  "  Is  it  the 
man  who  on  his  way  to  preach  the  Gospel 
passes  by  on  the  other  side?  In  a  later  chap- 
ter I  shall  relate  an  experience  of  mine  which 
shows  that  in  some  places  in  America  this 
answering  parable  is  being  embodied  in  real 
Ufe. 

What  the  Methodist  minister  told  me  of  the 
workingman's  feelings  was  confirmed  in  an  in- 
terview he  enabled  me  to  have  with  a  former 
President  of  the  Baltimore  Federation  of 
Labor.  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  a  leader 
in  this  movement  should  seem  to  be  so  young 
a  man.  He  left  his  work  on  a  linotype  machine 
in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  to  have  a  talk 
with  me.  At  first  he  was  very  cautious  in  what 
he  said,  for  he  suspected  from  a  remark  I  made 
that  I  was  on  a  political  errand  in  behalf  of 
Sunday  legislation;  but  as  soon  as  I  cleared 
that  up  he  was  very  candid. 

"  Religion  is  in  a  bad  way  in  Baltimore,"  he 
said,  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  bad  news 
to  tell  and  has  given  up  the  attempt  to  break 
it  gently.  "  I  say  frankly  that  the  churches  do 
not  welcome  the  workingmen,  and  the  work- 


12  THE   WORKINGMAN 

ingmen  do  not  care  for  the  churches.  The 
churches  are  made  up  mostly  of  employers, 
and  they  are  trying  to  get  all  they  can  out  of 
their  men,  and  don't  care  for  them  as  men  at 
all." 

"  Granted  all  that,"  said  I,  passing  by  with- 
out comment  the  very  obvious  exaggeration, 
"  suppose  that  the  churches  really  should  want 
to  do  something  for  the  workingmen,  what 
would  you  suggest  ?  " 

"  Why,"  he  replied,  quite  as  eager  to  propose 
a  positive  plan  as  he  was  vehement  in  his 
censure  —  "  why  don't  they  give  lectures  on 
industrial  questions  on  Sunday  ?  Why  don't 
ministers  send  out  circulars  to  the  leaders  of 
the  various  unions  saying  something  like  this: 
'  Next  Sunday  I  am  going  to  give  a  talk  on 
arbitration,  and  am  going  to  have  a  number  of 
the  most  influential  capitalists  present  in  the 
congregation,  and  I  want  every  union  in  the 
city  represented  there  also.  I  do  not  intend  to 
take  sides  one  way  or  the  other.'  " 

"  Would  such  a  proposition  be  welcomed  by 
the  unions  ?  " 

"  I  think  decidedly  it  would.  But  then  the 
ministers  in  this  city  would  never  do  such  a 
thing.     When  there  is  any  strike  or  labor  diflft- 


AND   THE   CHUKCH  13 

culty  before  the  public,  you  do  not  hear  of  any 
sermons  about  it ;  the  ministers  are  afraid  to  ex- 
press an  opinion,  for  those  churches  are  under 
the  control  of  the  employing  classes.  You 
hear  sermons  about  everything  else,  but  you 
don't  hear  any  sermons  about  the  working- 
man." 

"I  suppose  workingmen  would  expect  ser- 
mons to  uphold  Socialism?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  in  any  '  ism,' "  was  his 
prompt  reply.  "  I  try  to  be  liberal."  His  con- 
ception of  Socialism  I  inferred  from  his  adding: 
"  There  are  a  lot  of  Polish  Hebrews  in  Balti- 
moi-e  who  are  Debs  men,  but  they  are  about 
all  there  is  to  the  Social  Democracy." 

As  to  ministers  he  was  as  expHcit  as  he  was 
with  regard  to  churches : 

"  They  go  where  they  get  the  most  salaries. 
If  they  can  get  two  hundred  dollars  more,  they 
go  there." 

After  my  experience  at  the  ministers'  meet- 
ing I  was  not  in  the  mood  to  deny  that;  but  I 
asked:  "Is  that  not  true  of  workingmen  as 
well?  Does  not  the  workingman  go  where  he 
gets  more  wages?  Why  shouldn't  the  minister 
have  the  same  right?" 

"I  don't  blame  any  man,"  he  replied,  "for 


14  THE   WORKINGMAN 

getting  all  he  can ;  but  when  he  does  it,  I  want 
him  not  to  pretend  to  go  for  some  other  reason ; 
for  I  call  that  getting  money  under  false  pre- 
tenses." 

When  in  the  course  of  our  conversation  we 
reverted  to  the  Sunday  law,  he  represented  the 
workingman  as  considering  it  an  interference 
with  his  rightful  mode  of  recreation. 

"To  the  workingman  Sunday  is  the  day 
when  he  has  a  chance  to  get  rest  and  recrea- 
tion, particularly  Sunday  afternoon,  when  he 
goes  with  his  family  to  some  of  these  resorts 
and  spends  the  afternoon  there.  By  the  way, 
why  don't  the  ministers  go  to  the  resorts  them- 
selves? The  workingmen  are  down  there,  and 
there  isn't  one  who  wouldn't  be  glad  to  have 
a  minister  come  down  and  hold  service  and 
preach.  Workingmen  all  believe  in  God  and 
justice,  but  they  want  sympathy,  and  feel  that 
they  don't  get  it  from  the  ministers.  Another 
thing  the  ministers  can  do  is  to  get  a  list  of  the 
labor  unions,  and  then  request  the  secretary  of 
each  union  for  permission  to  attend  the  union 
meeting,  and  the  union  would  be  glad  to  have 
him  come  and  address  them  and  preach  on  any 
matter — only  not  about  heaven." 

"  What,  in  your  opinion,  is  the  Young  Men's 


AND   THE   CHURCH  15 

Christian  Association  worth  to  workingmen?" 
was  another  question  I  asked. 

"Well,"  he  replied,  "it  costs  six  dollars  a 
year  to  belong,  and  there's  not  much  charity 
in  that." 

"But  do  the  workingmen  want  charity?" 
"I^ot  a  bit  of  it!"  was  his  quick  rejoinder. 
For  a  moment,  however,  he  seemed  nonplussed. 
Then  he  added,  as  if  he  wished  to  remove 
any  impression  of  antagonism  he  may  have  un- 
intentionally made :  "  You  could  really  educate 
the  workingmen  up  to  recognizing  the  advan- 
tages that  such  an  organization  as  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association  does  offer.  After 
all,  you  cannot  do  anything  unless  you  tackle 
the  young  boys.  And  let  me  tell  you,"  he  con- 
tinued, in  the  most  deliberative  strain,  "  that  is 
the  strength  of  the  Catholic  Church;  they  get 
hold  of  the  children,  and  then  put  into  their 
ignorant  heads  the  idea  that  they  must  contrib- 
ute to  the  Church  so  much  for  St.  Peter's  pence 
and  so  much  for  other  things;  and  then  they 
scrape  and  starve  and  even  steal  to  do  it;  and 
they  teach  them  also  that  they  must  confess 
and  so  on,  and  as  a  consequence  when  they 
grow  up  they  are  in  the  Church.  You've  got 
to  get  hold  of  the  young  boys,     ^ow,  I've  got 


16  THE  WOKKINGMAN 

two  young  boys,  and  I've  made  them  join  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association." 

The  opinions  expressed  by  this  labor  leader 
may,  I  think,  be  considered  fairly  representative 
of  the  ordinary  labor  union  member's  views 
on  the  institutions  of  Christianity.  For  three 
reasons.  First,  there  was  nothing  very  origi- 
nal about  them.  They  came  to  be  familiar  to 
me  by  repetition  in  conversations  I  had  with 
others.  Second,  this  man,  as  I  ascertained 
later,  was  ambitious  to  be  a  political  leader 
among  workingmen,  and  as  he  knew  he  was 
"talking  for  publication"  (and,  by  the  way, 
was  rather  pleased  to  do  so),  it  may  safely  be 
assumed  that  he  was  discreet  in  his  account  of 
what  workingmen  thought.  Third,  in  compar- 
ing him  with  the  other  labor  leaders  of  the  city 
whom  I  met  at  a  meeting  of  the  Federation  of 
Labor,  I  should  say  that  both  by  temperament 
and  by  training  he  was  best  qualified  to  state 
their  case  with  a  minimum  of  intrusive  "personal 
equation."  In  reporting  his  views,  I  do  not 
venture  to  pass  any  judgment  upon  their  accu- 
racy. So  far  as  they  are  based  upon  fact,  they 
call  attention  to  conditions  which  it  is  the  func- 
tion of  the  Church  to  change.  So  far  as  they 
are  based  upon  ignorance  of  the  real  attitude  of 


AND   THE   CHURCH  17 

the  Church,  they  call  attention  to  misapprehen- 
sions which  it  is  the  function  of  the  Church  to 
remove.  Misapprehensions  are  quite  as  potent 
in  alienating  men  from  one  another  as  outward 
conditions  can  be. 

At  the  meeting  of  the  Federation  of  Labor, 
to  which  I  have  just  referred,  I  was  most  cor- 
dially welcomed.  Upon  the  request  of  several 
labor  leaders  and  sympathizers,  I  was  per- 
suaded, rather  against  my  own  instincts,  to  put 
some  questions  from  the  floor.  While  I  waited 
my  turn  I  was  given  a  seat  on  the  platform. 
The  meeting  was  characterized  by  what  seemed 
to  me  acerbity  of  feeling,  not  only  in  regard 
to  capitalists,  but  in  one  instance  in  regard  to 
one  of  the  federated  labor  unions.  Although 
it  was  an  open  meeting  for  the  transaction  of 
routine  business,  I  felt  as  if  I  were  at  a  council 
of  war.  After  I  had  put  my  questions,  all  per- 
taining to  the  workingman  and  the  Church,  a 
delegate  rose  and,  with  great  dignity  and  cour- 
tesy, called  the  attention  of  the  delegates  to 
the  fact  that  it  was  contrary  to  the  constitution 
to  discuss  any  political  or  sectarian  question 
at  a  meeting  of  the  Federation.  I  hastened 
to  remove,  if  possible,  the  impression  of  secta- 
rianism which  the  wording  of  one  of  my  ques- 


18  THE  WORKINGMAN 

tions  had  unfortunately  created.  A  number  of 
the  delegates  argued  in  favor  of  a  discussion 
of  the  questions;  but  the  decision  was  adverse 
to  a  discussion.  The  incident,  however,  was  by 
no  means  fruitless.  It  was  noteworthy  for  two 
things:  first,  the  disappearance  of  all  sign  of 
acrimony  during  the  presentation  and  discussion 
of  the  questions  about  religion ;  second,  the  un- 
mistakable and  almost  eager  interest  which  the 
delegates  evinced  throughout. 

After  the  meeting  a  number  of  the  men  came 
up  and  made  some  further  inquiries  about  my 
questions.  I  made  special  acquaintance  with 
one  of  these  who  had  been  foremost  in  attempt- 
ing to  have  my  questions  discussed.  I  had 
noticed  his  face  and  mien  as  being  exceptional 
for  his  surroundings.  This  was  partly  due,  as 
I  discovered,  to  the  nature  of  his  trade,  the 
finer  part  of  photolithography.  He  accompa- 
nied me  on  my  way  from  the  hall  to  the  hotel 
where  I  had  a  room.  He  was  greatly  inter- 
ested in  the  object  of  my  trip,  and  especially 
in  its  bearing  on  the  religion  of  workingmen. 
He  was  inclined  to  be  disheartened  concerning 
industrial  conditions,  but  his  discontent  was 
not  that  of  a  pessimist,  but  rather  that  of  an 
idealist.     He  told  me  much  about  himself,  and 


AND   THE  CHURCH  19 

as  he  talked  his  idealism  showed  itself  not  only 
in  language  but  also  in  a  quiet  emphasis  of 
look  and  gesture. 

He  had  been  brought  up  a  Roman  Catholic. 
He  had  found  himself,  however,  remonstrating 
against  the  emphasis  which  that  Church  laid  on 
patient  endurance  of  wrong.  This  was  con- 
trary to  all  his  instincts  as  an  American  work- 
ingman.  As  a  workingman  he  was  conscious 
of  unjust  social  conditions ;  as  an  American  he 
was  conscious  of  his  right  to  struggle  against 
them.  He  could  not  believe  a  man  could  cure 
injustice  by  patiently  enduring  it.  He  there- 
fore not  only  broke  away  from  the  Church,  but 
arrayed  himself  against  it  as  the  chief  power 
which  paralyzed  men's  efforts  for  an  ideal 
social  order.  He  felt,  too,  the  inadequacy  and 
even  the  perverseness  of  labor  unions  as  a  force 
for  social  improvement.  "A  few  years  ago," 
he  said,  "  I  was  active  in  the  Federation  of 
Labor ;  but  now,  though  I  am  a  delegate,  I  can- 
not work  in  the  organization  with  any  enthu- 
siasm. It  seems  as  if  workingmen  were  bound 
to  injure  themselves  by  their  own  actions. 
They  are  blindly  selfish  and  bitter  and  short- 
sighted in  their  organized  procedure.  They 
have  no  proper,  suitable,  and  intelligent  lead- 


20  THE  WOKKINGMAN 

ers.  This  is  due  to  conditions  under  which 
they  work.  They  have  no  chance  to  educate 
themselves  or  to  train  leaders  from  their  own 
ranks.  Now,  in  an  ideal  state  of  society  that 
would  not  be  possible."  This  brought  him  to 
an  enthusiastic  statement  of  his  belief  in  the 
Single  Tax.  Henry  George  was  his  prophet, 
and  Henry  George's  idealistic  political  economy 
was  his  theology.  He  had  reacted  from  the 
materialism  which  he  saw  apparently  govern- 
ing the  workingmen  with  whom  he  was  asso- 
ciated. In  place  of  it  he  had  this  conviction, 
which,  more  than  anything  else  he  said,  may 
be  called  his  creed:  "  I  believe  that  mind  con- 
trols matter." 

When  I  asked  him  for  his  judgment  of  the 
saloon,  his  idealism  was  very  evident  in  his  an- 
swer :  "  Saloons  do  harm  to  the  workingmen. 
They  not  only  create  intemperance,  but  injure 
men  who  are  temperate.  For  instance,  most  of 
the  labor  unions  meet  in  halls  that  are  provided 
by  saloon-keepers,  who  charge  nothing  for  their 
use.  After  a  labor  union  meeting  is  over,  all 
the  men  go  down  to  the  saloon  and  conscien- 
tiously remain  there  and  pay  for  drinks  in  order 
to  remunerate  their  benefactor.  A  great  many 
men  who  would  otherwise  not  drink  at  all  be- 


AND  THE   CHURCH  21 

come  intemperate  through  this  conscientious 
attempt  to  repay  obhgations." 

The  fact  that  a  meeting-place  was  provided 
for  the  unions  was  a  good  thing?  Yes,  he  was 
sure  of  that.  The  social  element  involved 
helped  to  further  comradeship  and  harmony? 
Yes.  Was  there  anything  to  take  the  place 
of  the  saloon  in  this  service  to  organized  labor? 
No,  there  was  not,  and  he  did  not  see  how  there 
could  be.  Could  a  church  make  provision  for 
a  hall  and  good-fellowship?  I^o,  he  thought 
that  would  be  savoring  too  much  of  charity — 
it  would  come  from  the  outside;  it  would  be 
unnatural.  "Since,  then,  this  is  a  necessary 
service,"  I  inquired,  "  and  the  saloon  is  doing 
it,  and  you  can  imagine  no  efficient  substitute, 
is  not  the  saloon  a  benefit  to  the  workingman, 
after  all?" 

"Well,"  was  his  answer,  "it  is  practically, 
but  not  ideally.  Perhaps  I  think  too  much  of 
ideal  states  of  society.  When  I  speak  of  a  thing 
as  right  or  wrong,  I  think  of  it  as  it  ought  to 
be,  not  as  it  is." 

Though  politically  ambitious  and  in  a  small 
way  successful,  he  had  put  his  idealism  into  his 
politics.  Though  a  Democrat  and  a  believer 
in  Bryan,  he  refused  a  nomination  that  was 


22  THE  WORKINGMAN 

tendered  to  him  because  its  acceptance  would 
involve  his  being  expected  to  vote  for  Gorman, 
in  whom  he  had  no  confidence. 

Strangely,  the  idealism  which  he  applied  so 
invariably  to  his  moral  conceptions  and  to  his 
politics  he  had  never  apparently  attempted  to 
apply  to  religion.  In  his  mind  was  so  firmly 
embedded  his  youthful  conception  that  religion 
was  a  visible  wafer,  a  smell  of  incense,  an  audi- 
ble confession,  a  life  of  submission  to  material- 
ism, that  it  seems  never  to  have  occurred  to 
him  that  religion  might  be  of  the  same  nature 
with  his  many  ideals,  much  less  that  it  should 
be  their  very  flower.  It  seemed  a  sad  com- 
mentary on  the  inefficiency  of  at  least  one 
branch  of  the  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  in  this 
twentieth  century  that  a  mind  trained  in  that 
branch  of  the  Church,  and  possessed  of  native 
qualities  that  at  times  seemed  such  as  are  pro- 
duced only  by  the  long  process  of  academic 
education,  should,  in  spite  of  its  inborn  ideal- 
ism, be  capable  of  entertaining  such  a  concep- 
tion of  religion  as  this : 

"If  by  religion  you  mean  that  which  is  divine, 
I  don't  believe  there  is  any  such  thing.  I  don't 
believe  there  is  any  divinity.  I  believe  that 
religion  originated  somewhat  in  this  way:     A 


AND  THE  CHURCH  23 

number  of  years  ago  there  was  a  man  [meaning 
Jesus]  who  preached  social  reforms;  and  he 
was  so  far  ahead  of  his  time  that  his  followers 
attributed  to  him  something  divine  [referring 
to  the  magic  of  the  mass],  and  that  is  the  way 
religion  began." 

Before  we  separated  I  think  both  of  us  got  a 
better  conception  of  the  religion  of  Jesus  than 
we  had  before;  for  we  found  it  grounded  in 
the  universal  sense  of  moral  obligation  and  the 
universal  honor  paid  to  self-sacrifice  for  others. 
The  rest  of  our  conversation  was  of  the  sort 
that  all  men  instinctively  consider  confidential. 
Indeed,  though  I  shall  not  be  likely  ever  to 
forget  its  impression,  its  form  I  did  not  attempt 
in  any  way  to  preserve.  It  will  be  enough  to 
say  that  it  revealed  a  mind  whose  idealism,  un- 
trained as  it  was,  seemed  to  me  as  much  truer 
and  deeper  than  the  transcendental  philosophy 
of  Emerson  as  it  was  marked  by  a  clearer,  more 
unstudied,  more  sincere  unselfishness. 


THE   CHUKCH  A:N^D  THE 
WORKINGMAN 


II 

THE  CHURCH  AND  THE 
WOnKLNGMAN 

PROBABLY  the  attention  which  I  shall  give 
to  the  industrial  problem  will  seem  to  most 
readers  to  be  disproportionate  to  other  phases 
of  religions  life  in  America.  Certainly  the 
intimate  connection  between  religious  life  and 
social  problems  in  America  was  a  surprise  to 
me;  indeed,  when  I  finished  my  trip,  I  had  the 
feeling  that  I  had  failed  in  my  purpose,  and 
that  I  had  been  observing  phenomena,  not  of 
religion,  but  of  sociology.  If  any  generalization 
is  justifiable  from  such  evidence  as  I  have 
gathered,  it  is  that  rehgion  in  America  is  char- 
acterized not  so  much  by  devoutness  as  by  right- 
eousness, less  by  the  look  upward  than  by  the 
look  outward. 

Carlyle  divided  the  people  of  Great  Britain 
27 


28  THE   CHURCH 

into  two  sects,  the  Dandiacal  Body  and  the 
Drudges.  My  observation  has  led  me  to  believe 
that  this  classification  can  be  said  to  be  meas- 
urably true  of  America  as  well.  "  To  the  psy- 
chological eye,"  Carlyle  said,  "  these  sects  reveal 
not  only  their  secular  significance,  but  their  re- 
ligious character  as  well."  In  America,  too,  this 
separation  between  the  "leisure  class"  and 
the  "  working  people  "  has  its  religious  bearing 
plain  to  those  who  look  for  it.  Perhaps  the 
dwellers  in  Baltimore  are  too  near  the  subject 
to  avoid  strabismus  in  looking  at  these  two 
sects  in  their  own  city,  or  to  avoid  myopy  in 
looking  at  them  as  they  exist  elsewhere.  There 
were  three  men  of  the  city,  however,  whom  I 
met  that  seemed  to  have  pretty  straight  and 
clear  vision. 

One  of  these  was  the  pastor  of  a  Methodist 
church  in  the  poorer  quarter  of  the  city.  His 
experiences  among  working  people  in  England 
as  well  as  in  America  were  wider  and  more 
intimate  than  those  of  any  other  minister  I  have 
had  occasion  to  meet.  With  the  possible  ex- 
ception of  an  Episcopalian  clergyman  in  Au- 
gusta, Georgia,  and  a  Presbyterian  clergyman 
in  St.  Louis,  no  man  in  active  ministerial  work, 
among  all  those  whom  I  met  during  my  travels, 


AND   THE  WORKINGMAN  29 

was  living  as  nearly  exclusively  among  wage- 
earners  as  he. 

"  The  peculiarity  of  the  workingmen  of  Bal- 
timore," he  said  to  me,  "is  that  their  whole 
mind  is  directed  on  food,  clothes,  and  a  good 
time.  What  is  true  of  the  workingman  in  this 
respect  is  true  of  the  whole  city  of  Baltimore. 
In  Boston,  it  is  said,  they  ask,  '  How  much  do 
you  know? '  in  'New  York,  '  How  much  are  you 
worth?'  in  Philadelphia,  'Who's  your  father?' 
and  in  Baltimore,  '  What  is  there  to  eat? '  This 
materialism  in  all  conditions  of  life  is  the  worst 
enemy  of  the  churches.  Among  workingmen 
it  results  not  so  much  in  hostility  as  in  indiffer- 
ence. When  men  are  mainly  set  upon  supply- 
ing their  physical  wants,  it  is  not  strange  that 
the  churches,  which  in  this  city  are  mainly  con- 
cerned not  with  this  life  but  with  the  future  life, 
should  have  no  appeal  for  them.  It  is  the  re- 
ligiosity and  the  lack  of  sincerity  in  the  churches 
that  repel  the  workingmen.  As  a  consequence 
they  go  to  resorts  for  sensations.  As  to  the 
very  poor  men  —  and  it  is  among  these  that  I 
work  —  they  haven't  the  clothes  they  think  they 
should  wear  at  church;  besides,  they  are  tired 
after  work.  The  commercial  spirit  is  driving 
the  working  world.     In  this  respect  England 


30  THE  CHURCH 

differs  from  America;  there  the  close  organi- 
zation of  the  unions  enables  the  workingmen  to 
work  more  slowly.  Here  the  intensity  of  labor 
which  enables  Americans  to  underbid  the  Eng- 
lish brings  exhaustion  to  all  concerned  in  it.  In 
this  country  workingmen  are  old  at  forty."  (At 
the  meeting  of  the  Federation  of  Labor  I  no- 
ticed the  preponderance  of  young  men.)  "  It  is 
this  all-possessing  commercial  spirit  which  has 
put  the  claims  of  the  Church  to  one  side. 
Against  this  the  churches  of  the  city  are  timid ; 
they  have  in  them  little  brain  or  brawn,  and  no 
grasp  of  the  social  life."  In  his  opinion,  such  an 
environment  had  resulted  in  deadening  the  spirit 
of  self-sacrifice  among  ministers  to  such  a  de- 
gree that  they  scarcely  knew  what  real  self- 
sacrifice  was.  As  the  minister  of  a  church  in 
the  poor  quarter  he  felt  keenly  his  isolation,  in 
no  respect  more  than  in  being  regarded  by  some 
as  "  an  amiable  lunatic  "  for  choosing  to  re- 
main with  his  church  instead  of  accepting  offers 
from  other  churches  of  larger  remuneration. 
His  comment  was  briefly:  "As  if  the  four  Gos- 
pels didn't  exist! " 

This  is  the  view  of  one  man  who  has  the 
"  psychological  eye."  Another  man,  a  gar- 
ment-cutter and  a  member  of  a  church  —  this 


AND    THE  WORKINGMAN  31 

description  would  be  almost  adequate  for  iden- 
tification —  had  practically  the  same  view  as 
that  of  the  minister  I  have  just  quoted.  The 
third  man  was  a  Roman  Catholic  priest,  whose 
eye  I  recognized  as  psychological  as  soon  as 
he  turned  it  on  me,  and  whose  heart  I  knew  to 
be  very  human  as  soon  as  he  had  talked  with 
me  five  minutes.  He  frankly  confessed  to  me 
that  he  was  "  out  of  sympathy  with  the  rich." 
This  from  a  man  of  commanding  influence  in 
his  Church.  He  gave  me  his  explanation  of 
the  f  ailm*e  of  the  Church  to  hold  the  working- 
man.  He  prefaced  his  remarks  with  a  state- 
ment that  even  in  Europe  the  poor  are  not  to 
be  seen  in  the  churches. 

"  The  predominant  vice  of  clergy,  both  Prot- 
estant and  Roman  Catholic,  is  ambition  and 
avarice.  This  shuts  the  poor  out."  Such  was 
the  conclusion  he  had  come  to  after  years  of 
directing  the  Catholic  missions  to  dependent 
races  in  America.  "State  socialism  is  in- 
evitable. What  can  the  Church  do  to  provide 
for  the  people's  material  welfare  ?  Ever 
since  the  Reformation  the  State  has  taken 
over  these  former  functions  of  the  Church 
—  hospitals,  schools,  Hbraries,  and  the  like. 
When    in    need,    the    workingman    used    to 


32  THE  CHURCH 

turn  to  the  Church.  Now  he  turns  to  the 
State.  It's  queer,  very  queer,"  he  said,  as  he 
bade  me  good-by  —  and  he  spoke  with  feel- 
ing—  "how  httle  effect  Christianity  has  upon 
us.  The  teachings  of  Christ,  the  Sermon  on 
the  Mount,  the  parables  of  Christ  —  we  hear 
them,  we  preach  them,  but  we  don't  practice 
them."  And,  with  a  Hibernian  mixture  of 
homely  humor  and  serious  and  almost  pathetic 
conviction,  he  added,  "  They  are  Uke  water  on 
a  duck's  back." 

To  pretend  that  these  statements  give  a  true 
impression  of  the  general  religious  conditions 
of  the  city  of  Baltimore  would  be  absurd.  I  hope 
I  shall  not  be  misunderstood  in  this  respect.  The 
churches  in  Baltimore  are  what  may  be  called, 
in  the  ordinary  understanding  of  the  term,  pros- 
perous. One  need  only  spend  a  Sunday  there 
to  be  convinced  that  a  great  many  people  — 
perhaps  an  extraordinary  proportion  of  them  — 
attend  the  services  of  churches  of  all  denomina- 
tions. A  large  number  of  the  churches  of  the 
city  are  doing  great  good  in  addition  to  the  ser- 
vices of  worship.^  The  old  Church  of  St. 
Paul's  Parish,  antedating  the  founding  of  the 

•  A  monograph  on  The  Church  and  Popular  Education  was  prepared  by 
the  late  Professor  Herbert  B.  Adams,  of  Johns  Hopkins  University,  nearly 
one-half  of  which  treats  of  the  educational  work  of  Baltimore  churches. 


AND  THE   WORKINGMAN  33 

city  itself,  has  not  only  been  a  force  in  the  city 
for  generations,  but  still  to-day,  with  narrowed 
boundaries  and  influence  circumscribed  by  the 
rise  of  other  churches,  is  doing  an  ever  more 
widely  varying  work.  The  charities  of  Balti- 
more, which  owe  their  existence  and  maintenance 
to  religious  motives,  are  thoroughly  well  organ- 
ized; and,  in  spite  of  an  unjustifiable  criticism 
which  I  heard  a  workingman  give  upon  them 
that  they  are  chiefly  for  the  exploitation  of  the 
sentimental  rich,  are  wisely  and  humanly  admin- 
istered. But,  to  use  the  words  of  a  member  of 
St.  Paul's  Parish,  an  executive  officer  not  only 
of  the  municipal  but  also  of  the  national  charity 
organization,  "  the  relation  between  the  work- 
ingman and  the  Church  is  not  cordial ;  and  it 
is  the  Church's  fault."  That  is  equally  true  if 
in  the  word  "  Church  "  should  be  included  all 
organized  Christian  bodies  —  even,  I  think  I 
may  say,  the  Salvation  Army  —  and  it  is  about 
equally  true  in  all  the  larger  cities  of  America, 
and  in  many  of  the  smaller  cities ;  less  true  in 
some,  such  as  ^ew  Orleans,  than  in  others,  as, 
for  example,  St.  Louis. 

During  my  trip  I  met  a  number  of  ministers 
who  had  gained  some  reputation  for  success 
among  workingmen.     In   most  cases  I   found 


34  THE    CHURCH 

the  reputation  resting  on  rather  insecure  foun- 
dation. As  a  rule,  such  success  has  been 
greatly  magnified;  or  it  has  been  temporary, 
originating  in  the  excitement  of  some  indus- 
trial agitation  and  ending  with  its  subsidence ; 
or  else  it  has  been  a  success,  not  with  the  great 
mass  of  self-respecting,  progressive  working- 
men,  but  with  the  slum-dwellers. 

Most  Christian  men,  whether  ministers  or  lay- 
men, who  have  this  matter  at  heart,  feel,  I 
think,  dismayed  at  the  condition.  The  fact 
that  they  are  themselves  so  keenly  aware  of  the 
chasm  that  separates  the  strong  body  of  labor- 
ing men  from  the  forces  of  organized  Chris- 
tianity makes  them  just  as  keenly  sensitive  to 
the  callous  and  sometimes  even  complacent  in- 
difference concerning  that  chasm  on  the  part  of 
the  membership  of  the  churches.  They  recog- 
nize, too,  that  the  labor  organizations  have  pre- 
empted the  ground  which  the  churches  otherwise 
might  occupy;  and  even  if  the  churches  were 
eager  to  span  that  chasm,  they  do  not  know 
what  diplomacy  should  be  used  for  the  purpose 
of  getting  a  site  on  the  other  side  for  a  pier  for 
their  bridge.  The  sincerely  pious  and  churchly 
woman  who  devoutly  kneels  in  her  pew,  se- 
renely heedless  of  the  fact  that  the  stones  of 


AND   THE  WOKKINGMAN  35 

the  church  in  which  she  worships,  the  wood  on 
which  she  rests  her  head,  the  very  prayer-book 
or  hymnal  she  holds  in  her  hand,  were  provided 
by  men  entirely  untouched  by  the  Church  for 
which  they  had  worked,  is  as  near  the  solution 
of  the  problem  as  those  men  in  whom  serenity 
is  impossible  so  long  as  the  problem  lasts. 

Typical  of  those  who  know  the  problem,  and 
are  too  disheartened  or  daunted  to  start  solving 
it,  was  the  Secretary  of  the  Young  Men's  Chris- 
tian Association  at  Richmond,  Virginia.  He  was 
a  native  of  Pennsylvania,  and  had  been  brought 
up  in  the  labor  districts  of  that  State. 

"  Tackling  the  problem  of  '  working '  "  (he 
used  the  word  in  its  religious  sense)  "  among 
laboring  men  is  very  grave,"  was  his  opinion. 
"  I've  not  done  it,  for  I've  not  seen  my  way 
clear.  It  is  very  difficult  to  do  anything  with 
the  laboring  men  except  through  their  organi- 
zations. I  am  not  sure  that  I  want  to  identify 
myself  with  any  labor  organizations." 

"The  Christian  Association  recognizes  that 
its  religious  work  is  to  be  done  through  the 
churches,"  I  replied.  "  In  regard  to  laboring 
men,  might  it  not  apply  the  same  principles  and 
work  through  labor  unions  ?  " 

"  That  would  be  true,"  he  said,  "  if  it  were 


36  THE   CHUKCH 

not  for  the  fact  that  labor  unions  are  often  bit- 
terly opposed  to  one  another  —  as  bitterly  as 
labor  is  opposed  to  capital  —  and  I  do  not  think 
it  is  right  for  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso- 
ciation to  enter  into  these  contentions." 

"  Are  these  contentions  any  bitterer  than  the 
denominational  fights  which  were  even  more 
vehement  when  the  Christian  Association  orig- 
inated than  now?  And  the  Association  has 
never  been  involved  in  purely  denominational 
controversy." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  a  great  deal  of  tact  and 
care  would  be  needed."  And  he  left  the 
matter  there,  just  about  where  everybody  else 
leaves  it. 

The  Railroad  Young  Men's  Christian  Asso- 
ciation is  the  only  considerable  organization 
that  I  met  with  which  is  at  all  venturing  to  put 
the  religious  life  of  workingmen  into  institu- 
tional form.  Even  when  it  is  understood  that 
railroad  men  are  an  exceptional  body  of  work- 
ingmen, separated  in  industrial  organizations 
and  in  class  feeling  almost  as  distinctly 
from  other  workingmen  as  from  capitalists, 
still  the  success  of  the  Railroad  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association  certainly  should 
suggest    to    the    Chui-ch   at    large   some  pos- 


AND   THE  WOEKINGMAN"  37 

sible  measures.  The  Railroad  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  has  shown  itself  to  be 
elastic  in  adapting  itself  to  the  peculiar  condi- 
tions of  a  railroad  man's  life.  Instead  of  having 
a  theory  and  trying  to  make  the  men  con- 
form to  it,  it  has  studied  the  environment  of  the 
men  and  conformed  itself  to  that.  The  train- 
men must  have  one  regular  stopping-place  be- 
sides their  homes,  at  the  other  end  of  their  route 
or  "run."  This  fact  has  determined  largely 
the  character  of  the  Railroad  Branch  of  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association.  To  the 
trainman  it  has  aimed  at  being  a  second  home. 
To  that  end  it  has  put  foremost,  or  at  least  most 
prominent,  the  comfort  of  its  quarters;  it  has 
provided  smoking-rooms,  for  if  it  is  to  be  his 
second  home  it  must  be  free  from  unnecessary 
restrictions  based  on  other  people's  notions  of 
what  is  expedient  for  him  to  do  or  not  to  do. 
There  he  finds  his  time-tables;  there  he  has  a 
bedroom;  there  he  even  receives  his  pay.  The 
same  liberal  policy  is  adopted,  I  am  told,  in  the 
army  and  navy  Associations.  As  a  result,  the 
members  mentally  associate  the  Christian  spirit 
with  what  in  the  minds  of  workingmen  gener- 
ally may  be  said  to  be  their  strongest  ethical 
motive  —  interest  in  the  physical  comfort  and 


38  THE   CHURCH 

welfare  of  the  individual,  the  personal  desire  on 
the  part  of  one  man  that  another  should  be  con- 
tented and  happy.  To  the  ordinary  working- 
man  "  preaching  the  Gospel "  at  him  conveys  no 
impression  of  personal  interest  in  him,  on  the 
contrary  implies  censure  or  at  best  condescen- 
sion; but  a  comfortable  substitute  for  a  home 
away  from  home  is  to  him  evidence,  certainly 
most  convincing  evidence,  of  an  understanding 
of  his  point  of  view.  It  is  putting  the  Gospel 
into  his  vernacular.  At  present  "the  whole 
state  of  Christ's  Church  "  undoubtedly  forbids 
the  general  adoption  or  adaptation  of  what  is 
characteristic  of  the  Railroad  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association,  but  in  some  places  it  has 
been  attempted  with  varying  success. 

In  Mississippi  I  was  waiting  between  trains 
at  a  station,  when  I  noticed  a  dwelling-house 
designated  by  a  sign  as  an  Association  of  the 
Railroad  Branch.  I  spent  a  few  minutes  in 
talking  with  the  secretary  and  looking  over  the 
house.  The  office  was  in  the  smoking-room; 
the  next  room  was  a  reading-room  or  parlor,  in 
which  the  religious  meetings  were  held;  up- 
stairs there  were  bath-rooms,  and  bedrooms 
very  little  but  scrupulously  clean.  The  town 
was  a  small  one,  too  small  to  support  more  than 


AND  THE  WOEKINGMAN  39 

one  Association,  and  therefore  this  building 
answered  for  the  use  of  the  neighborhood  as 
well  as  for  the  railroad.  The  secretary  told  me 
that  the  arrangement  worked  admirably,  and 
that  the  freedom  from  restraint  due  to  railroad 
influences  seemed  to  give  it  a  local  advantage 
as  well. 

Of^  course  the  fact  that  the  railroad  corpora- 
tions contribute  to  the  financial  maintenance  of 
the  railroad  Associations  gives  occasion  for 
prejudice  against  the  Associations  in  the  minds 
of  the  more  bitter  among  the  labor  leaders ;  but 
this  prejudice  has  not  been  effective  enough  to 
prevent  an  amazing  growth.  I  imagine  the 
men  have  much  the  same  ideas  about  them  as  a 
man  with  whom  I  fell  into  conversation  as  I 
was  going  from  Harrisburg  to  Reading,  Penn- 
sylvania. I  found  he  was  a  watchman  at  a  cross- 
ing; he  had  lost  his  legs  in  an  accident,  and  was 
reduced  by  his  disability  to  such  simple  work. 
His  almost  naively  frank  way  of  talking,  and  his 
calmly  philosophic  way  of  bearing  the  inevita- 
ble in  his  lot  (he  said,  for  instance,  that  at  the 
time  of  his  accident  he  never  lost  consciousness 
or  worried  in  the  least),  gave  to  his  opinions 
the  more  weight. 

"  The  P.  and  R.  didn't  treat  its  men  very 


40  THE   CHURCH 

well  till  lately,"  he  said  in  answer  to  a  question 
of  mine.  "  There  were  two  or  three  accidents 
the  past  year  or  so.  On  that  account  all  the 
old  bosses  were  discharged,  and  now  the  bosses 
are  all  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  men 
and  treat  their  men  much  better  than  the  old 
bosses  did.  They  all  expect  the  men  to  do 
right.  Yes,  I'm  an  active  member  of  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association.  I  belong 
to  the  Hamburg  Methodist  Episcopal  Church. 
Only  two  or  three  railroad  men  belong  to  that 
church.  They  say  they  are  too  restricted — 
can't  go  off  from  their  homes  and  get  drunk  and 
have  a  good  time.  Drinking  isn't  the  thing  for 
a  railroad  man.  Mr.  Besler,  superintendent  of 
the  road,  is  down  on  drinking.  Some  of  the 
men  like  hun  and  some  don't.  Then,  you 
know,  there  are  some  men  that  want  everything 
and  aren't  satisfied  with  that.  The  way  I  look 
at  it,  in  the  church  everything  is  going  to  style. 
A  poor  man  can't  dress  as  well  as  a  rich  man, 
and  his  wife  gets  jealous  because  the  other 
man's  wife  looks  better  than  she  does.  Some 
men  make  fun  of  the  churches  and  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  because  you  pay 
money  in  and  don't  draw  any  out  for  'bene- 
fits.' " 


AND  THE  WOKKINGMAN  41 

"How  would  it  be  for  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  to  have  a  benefit  order  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know.  It  would  be  all  right  if  they 
were  all  honest  in  the  churches  and  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  but  there  are 
black  sheeps  in  'em  all." 

This  frank-minded  workingman,  himself  a 
member  of  a  church  and  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association,  felt  less  distrust  of  a 
railroad  corporation  than  of  Christian  institu- 
tions. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  present  theories  con- 
cerning any  phase  of  religion  in  America;  but 
I  cannot  leave  this  subject  of  working  people 
and  the  Church  without  setting  down  certain 
definite  impressions  made  not  merely  by  the 
experiences  which  are  here  recorded,  but  also 
by  others  for  which  I  have  not  here  the  space. 
I  wish  I  might  give  these  other  experiences  in 
full ;  they  would  then  be  more  convincing  than 
they  can  be  in  the  condensed  form  into  which  I 
am  under  the  necessity  of  compressing  them. 

In  the  first  place,  the  feeling  of  workingmen 
regarding  not  merely  religion,  but  most  spe- 
cifically institutional  Christianity,  is  not  one  of 
apathy.  Apparent  indifference  must  be  ac- 
counted for  otherwise  than  by  attributing  it  to 


42  THE    CHURCH 

deep-seated  apathy.  Workingnien  are  indiffer- 
ent to  any  presentation  of  the  Gospel  which  is 
a  theological  statement,  in  either  technical  or 
popular  terms,  of  a  scheme  by  which  a  problem- 
atical soul  may  find  entrance  into  a  problemati- 
cal heaven;  they  are  equally  indifferent  to  any 
presentation  of  practical  religious  conduct 
which  amounts  to  the  substitution  of  some- 
body else's  conscience  for  their  own.  But 
they  are  not  indifferent  to  religion  itself,  nor  to 
the  Church  itself.  A  few  questions,  for  in- 
stance, about  religion,  enough  to  suggest  that 
somebody,  supposedl}^  identified  with  institu- 
tional Christianity,  is  interested  in  the  religion 
of  the  workingman,  were  enough,  I  learned,  to 
awaken  the  delegates  of  all  the  trades  unions 
of  a  city  to  a  quick  and  ingenuous  response. 
The  apathetic  are  not  so  easily  aroused. 

Then  it  may  safely  be  said  that  the  working- 
man  is  perfectly  prepared  to  have  religion  deal 
directly  and  explicitl}^  with  the  most  perplexing 
and  burdensome  problems  of  his  life.  Through- 
out the  course  of  my  trip  I  was  constantly  meet- 
ing with  this  explanation  of  empty  churches  — 
that  ministers  deal  too  much  with  the  "  live  issues  " 
of  daily  life,  which  people  want  to  forget,  to  have 
banished  from  their  minds  by  the  ministrations 


AND   THE  WORKINGMAN  43 

of  the  Church.  The  workingman  will  never 
go  to  church  to  forget  his  cares.  He  convinced 
me  of  that  by  telling  me  of  his  knowledge  of 
other  pleasanter  and  more  effectual  means.  If 
he  ever  will  go  to  church,  it  will  be  when  the 
Church,  through  its  ministers  standing  in  the 
pulpits  on  Sundays,  declares  its  acquaintance 
with  his  perplexities  and  its  purpose  not  to 
gloze  them  and  wheedle  him  into  forgetting 
them,  but  to  join  with  him  in  getting  rid  of 
their  cause.  The  good  news  of  a  church  set 
on  ridding  him  of  the  evils  he  is  suffering  from 
would  be  a  gospel  he  would  be  glad  to  hear 
preached. 

Furthermore,  at  present  a  workingman  is  ill 
at  ease  in  church;  he  feels  there  more  than 
anywhere  else  the  assertion  of  social  distinctions. 
As  he  puts  it,  in  the  opera-house  he  can  buy  his 
right  to  a  seat  with  money  as  good  as  anybody 
else's,  or  in  a  beer-garden  he  can  buy  as  good 
drinks  as  anybody  can  for  the  sum  he  is  willing 
to  spend ;  but  in  a  church  —  well,  he  is  admitted 
on  sufferance.  And  he  feels  these  social  dis- 
tinctions quite  as  much  in  the  missions  as  he 
does  in  the  "  fashionable  churches  "  that  sup- 
port them.  He  would  never  support  a  Work- 
ingman's  Theater;  when  he  wants  to  see  a  play 


44  THE  CHURCH 

he  is  willing  to  go  only  to  the  theater.  Just  so 
he  will  be  satisfied,  not  with  a  chapel,  or  even 
a  "  Workingman's  Church,"  but  only  with  The 
Church.  To  his  thinking  the  Church  Trust  is 
an  accomplished  fact  —  well  capitalized.  This 
may  be  purely  the  figment  of  his  imagination, 
but  it  is  effectual  in  excluding  him  just  the 
same.  It  is  only  reporting  the  substance  of 
what  has  repeatedly  been  said  to  me  to  affirm 
that  the  only  way  in  which  this  feeling  of  the 
workingman  concerning  the  social  aloofness  of 
the  Church  can  be  removed  is  by  the  Church's 
forgetting  its  pride  and  proving  itself  by  some 
positive  action  not  guilty. 

Moreover,  this  trait  of  social  aloofness  which 
the  wage-earner  attributes  to  the  Church,  so 
far  as  it  exists — and  it  is  not  wholly  a  product 
of  the  imagination  —  is  due  less  to  ministers 
than  to  lajTiien.  Clergymen  are  in  general  far 
more  sensitive  to  the  social  and  religious  aspects 
of  the  labor  problem,  and  are  more  in  sympathy 
with  the  wage-earner,  than  are  men  and  women 
whose  views  of  the  relation  between  employer 
and  employed  are  likely  to  be  distorted  by  self- 
interest.  But  ministers,  convinced  as  they  are 
of  the  purity  of  their  own  motives  and  those  of 
the  Church  at  large,  seldom  realize  that  promi- 


AND  THE  WORKINGMAN  45 

nence  in  a  church  accorded  to  one  or  two 
laymen  of  the  smug  and  self-satisfied  sort, 
whose  attitude  to  the  laboring  classes,  so  called, 
is  one  of  irritating  patronage,  is  quite  sufficient 
to  counteract  all  that  the  minister  can  say  in 
the  pulpit,  and  all  kindly  fellow-feeling,  little 
appreciated  because  but  little  expressed,  on  the 
part  of  the  rest  of  the  church.  It  is  prominence 
rather  than  influence  that  makes  the  snobbish 
well-to-do  layman  figure  as  the  representative 
of  the  Church  in  the  mind  of  workingmen;  just 
as  it  is  prominence  rather  than  influence  that 
makes  the  irresponsible  agitator  figure  as  the 
representative  of  workingmen  in  the  mind  of 
many  church  people. 

Still  further:  the  ideas  of  the  Church,  and  es- 
pecialty  of  ministers,  which  workingmen  have, 
have  been  formed  from  the  reports  of  sermons 
which  appear  in  the  newspapers.  Time  and 
again  workingmen  have  said  to  me,  "You  don't 
read  in  the  papers  of  any  ministers  preaching 
about  this  or  that,"  or,  "  Such  and  such  a  view 
is  what  the  ministers  teach,  for  I  always  read 
the  sermons  in  the  Monday  papers." 

Here  I  may  mention  an  illustration  of  the 
erroneous  impressions  they  are  liable  to  receive 
from  this  fact.     After  my  visit  to  the  meeting 


46  THE  CHURCH 

of  the  trades-union  delegates,  described  in  the 
foregoing  chapter,  a  reporter  interviewed  me. 
The  next  day  I  bought  a  copy  of  his  paper  to 
see  what  he  had  said.  There,  in  a  conspicuous 
place,  was  a  headline  in  heavy-face  type,  "  No 
Religion,"  followed  in  smaller  type  by  the  words 
"Allowed  to  be  Discussed  at  the  Federation  of 
Labor  Meeting."  From  this  entirely  accurate 
statement  of  fact  the  conclusion  was  almost  in- 
evitable that  the  delegates  showed  antagonism 
to  religion  —  a  conclusion  entirely  at  odds  with 
the  cordial  interest  they  from  first  to  last  dis- 
played. The  one  preacher  in  Baltimore  who 
seemed  to  be  universally  popular  among  work- 
ingmen,  I  found  by  inquiry,  had  probably  not  a 
single  workingman  in  his  church.  The  most 
enthusiastic  of  his  admirers  with  whom  I  talked 
had,  I  believe,  never  heard  him  preach.  It  was 
apparently  only  from  the  newspapers,  in  which 
his  sermons  often  appeared,  that  the  working- 
men  had  any  knowledge  of  him,  and  on  his 
newspaper  reputation  his  popularity  among 
them  almost  wholly  I'ested. 

Without  question,  the  standards  which  the 
workingman  applies  to  institutional  Christianity 
are  largely  materialistic.  It  does  no  good,  how- 
ever, to  call  his  religion  a  Mud  Philosophy  and 


AND    THE  WORKINGMAN  47 

dismiss  it  as  such.  Christianity  is  a  seed;  it 
needs  a  soil.  A  cup  of  cold  water  is  quite  as 
materialistic  as  anything  the  workingman 
craves,  and  appears  quite  as  unpromising  in 
spiritual  results;  but  it  sufficed  as  a  test  for 
Christ  to  apply  to  his  disciples.  I  was  sorry  to 
find  that  the  workingmen  of  Baltimore,  like  the 
rest  of  mankind  in  general,  were  selfish  in  their 
notions  of  religion.  I  found  the  question  upper- 
most in  their  minds  as  they  think  of  the  Church 
is  the  one  more  than  once  put  to  me,  "  What  is 
there  in  it  for  us?"  I  cannot  see,  however, 
that  that  affords  any  reason  for  the  Church  to 
turn  away  from  them  until  they  are  of  better 
mind.  If  the  Gospels  are  to  be  believed,  this 
same  question  was  uppermost  in  the  minds  of 
the  twelve  Apostles ;  but  Christ  accepted  them 
as  material  out  of  which  to  form  his  Church. 

Of  course,  the  question  why  the  attitude  of 
the  workingmen  to  the  various  forms  of  institu- 
tional Christianity  should  be  so  little  one  of 
sympathy  and  so  much  one  of  alienation,  not  to 
say  hostility,  is  to  a  large  degree  a  part  of  the 
greater  question  why  the  Church  and  its  allied 
organizations  find  but  little  cordial  response 
from  the  masculine  mind.  The  fact  is  well 
known  that  among  all  classes  of  society  women 


48  THE   CHURCH 

form  the  majority  of  the  constituents  of  the 
Church.  This  condition  is,  moreover,  by  no 
means  distinctive  of  America.  The  congrega- 
tions in  the  Roman  Catholic  churches  of 
Europe  to  all  appearance  show  quite  as  small  a 
minority  of  male  adherents  as  do  the  Protestant 
churches  of  the  United  States.  The  fact,  there- 
fore, that  men  who  are  wage-earners  in  America 
are  not  ordinarily  found  to  be  open  allies  of  the 
Church  is  only  one  aspect  of  a  larger  fact, 
which,  important  though  it  is,  I  shall  not  dis- 
cuss. It  is  an  aspect,  however,  which  has  in- 
vited special  attention,  mainly  because  wage- 
earners  are  organized  as  no  other  men  are.  It 
is  the  organization  of  labor  that  has  made  the 
relation  between  workingmen  and  the  Church  a 
distinct  phase  of  the  religious  life  of  America. 
In  Baltimore  materialism  is  certainly  in  its 
best  estate  —  from  its  club  dinners,  which  I 
thankfully  ate,  to  the  financial  health  of  its 
charities.  Surely  material  prosperity  adorns 
many  virtues,  such  as  hospitality  (to  this  I 
gratefully  testify),  and  public  spirit  (witness 
the  city's  many  splendid  monuments  and  beau- 
tiful streets),  and  piety  (enriched  with  liturgy 
and  music) ;  but  also  covers,  in  quite  different 
fashion  from  charity's  way,  a  multitude  of  sins. 


AND   THE    WORKINGMAN  49 

It  was  not  mere  chance  that  led  me  to  find  the 
problem  of  the  separation  between  the  Church 
and  the  workingman  most  representatively  ex- 
hibited in  the  city  of  Baltimore.  It  is,  therefore, 
to  this  aspect  of  religious  life  in  Baltimore, 
rather  than  to  other  aspects  more  cheering  and 
more  typical  of  the  city,  that  I  have  almost  ex- 
clusively confined  these  two  chapters. 

The  only  apology  I  have  to  offer  for  devoting 
so  large  a  proportion  of  this  book  to  the  relation 
between  workingmen  and  the  Church  in  Balti- 
more is  that  in  my  experiences  the  industrial 
problem  impressed  me  as  constituting  a  tremen- 
dous factor  in  the  religious  life  of  America  in 
these  days,  and  that  in  Baltimore  I  found  con- 
ditions largely  representative  of  conditions 
throughout  the  country.  Further  references 
to  the  subject  in  this  book  will  be  mainly  in- 
cidental. 


A  VIRGINIA  COUNTRY  RECTOR 


Ill 

A  yiEGINIA  COUNTRY  RECTOR 

ALOCAL  train  running  out  from  Richmond 
.  took  me  to  Doswell.  I  knew  it  was  only 
one  chance  in  ten  that  I  should  be  able  to  find 
the  Episcopal  minister  I  wanted  to  see.  Cer- 
tainly as  I  stood  on  the  station  platform  and 
looked  about  on  the  wooded,  level  country,  I 
could  get  but  little  encouragement.  Off  to  the 
right  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  were  a  few 
houses.  Opposite  the  station  was  a  store.  The 
station  agent,  a  young  man,  greeted  me  as  if  he 
were  my  host.  Did  he  know  Mr.  Hepburn? 
He  most  cert'nly  did  know  Rev.  Hepburn; 
everybody  did.  Could  he  direct  me  to  his 
house,  and  how  could  I  go  to  it?  Well,  it  was 
about  five  miles  away  along  that  road,  and  per- 
haps I  could  hire  a  horse  at  the  store  across  the 
way.     So  across  the  way  I  went.     Both  horses 

53 


54      A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR 

had  gone  to  the  mill.  Anywhere  else  to  inquire? 
No.  So  I  started  afoot.  It  was  the  latter  part 
of  February.  The  brown  deadness  of  a  Vir- 
ginian winter  intensified  the  effect  of  desolation 
characteristic  of  a  country  suffering  from  ar- 
rested development.  As  I  trudged  along  not 
very  cheerfully,  I  heard  a  shout  behind  me.  A 
colored  man  was  trying  to  attract  my  attention. 
I  waited  while  he  walked  leisurely  up  to  where 
I  stood.  He  offered  to  take  me  to  Mr.  Hep- 
burn's. I  gladly  made  a  bargain  with  him,  and 
off  he  started  with  some  alacrity  to  get  his 
horse.  While  he  was  gone  I  strolled  over  to 
the  neighboring  house  —  or,  more  properly, 
cabin.  From  the  small  colored  boy  on  the 
porch  I  learned  a  little  about  the  negro  churches 
in  the  neighborhood,  but  before  I  was  well 
under  way  my  colored  guide  came  driving 
along  at  a  furious  pace.  Evidently  he  objected 
to  haste  only  when  it  involved  exertion  on  his 
own  part.  As  we  drove  away  I  talked  with  him 
about  the  colored  people.  From  the  informa- 
tion given  by  the  driver  and  the  boy  I  ascer- 
tained these  facts :  that  there  were  two  churches, 
one  Baptist,  one  Methodist;  that  almost  all  the 
negroes  were  members  of  one  or  the  other;  that 
there  were  no  services  except  on  Sunday ;  that 


A   VIEGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      55 

the  minister  of  the  Baptist  church  came  up 
every  Sunday  from  Richmond;  that  the  minis- 
ter was  supported  by  what  contributions  he 
could  get,  not  by  any  stipulated  salary. 

When  we  had  gone  a  couple  of  miles,  we  saw 
a  buggy  coming  toward  us.  It  proved  to  con- 
tain Mr.  Hepburn  himself  with  his  wife.  I  in- 
troduced myself.  He  had  not  received  the  let- 
ter of  introduction  which,  I  understood,  was  to 
have  been  sent  him  by  one  of  his  fellow-minis- 
ters. But  he  most  cordially  welcomed  me  and 
offered  me,  stranger  as  I  was,  the  freedom  of 
his  house  if  I  would  drive  on  and  wait  for  his 
return.  I  acquiesced  in  this  hospitable  proposal ; 
but  after  he  had  gone  I  reversed  my  decision, 
as  another  plan  occurred  to  me  which  might  be 
more  for  his  convenience  as  well  as  mine.  This 
proved  wise.  I  told  my  driver  we  would  return 
to  the  station.  Before  we  reached  there  we  met 
Mr.  Hepburn  returning  alone,  his  wife  having 
taken  the  train  to  Richmond.  The  vacant  seat 
beside  him  he  offered  to  me,  and  I  at  once  ac- 
cepted it.  ^N^ow  he  was  free  to  make  the  pas- 
toral calls  he  had  planned,  and  I  gained  an  hour 
more  of  his  company. 

The  first  impression  he  made  on  me  was 
of  strength,  dignity,   virility,  and   kindliness. 


56      A   VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR 

As  he  sat  thei-e  erect  with  his  bhie  mihtary  cape 
thrown  over  his  shoulders  yet  not  concealing 
the  clerical  coat-collar  beneath,  with  the  reins 
held  taut  in  strong  hands  that  seemed  to  re- 
spond with  sympathetic  control  to  every  ner- 
vous movement  of  his  high-strung  horse,  with 
his  felt  hat  shading  a  pair  of  friendly  eyes,  his 
hair  just  tinged  with  gray,  his  chin  strong  and 
clean-shaven,  his  neck  and  face  bronzed  with 
exposure  to  the  weather,  he  looked  the  very 
figure  of  what  the  minister  of  God  in  the 
Church  militant  should  be. 

For  twenty  years  he  had  been  traveling  on 
this  circuit  in  Virginia.  Its  boundaries  had 
changed  in  the  course  of  years.  ^N^ow  it  covers 
a  territory  sixty  miles  long  and  eight  miles 
wide,  containing  no  villages  whatever,  only 
scattered  houses.  It  is  a  region  full  of  historic 
interest  as  the  scene  of  the  attack  on  Rich- 
mond. Within  this  parish  he  preaches  regu- 
larly to  six  churches,  in  two  of  them  every  two 
weeks,  in  the  others  once  a  month.  One  of 
these  churches  is  at  Hanover  Court-House, 
made  famous  by  the  Civil  War. 

In  this  circuit  he  had  seen  within  twenty 
years  a  great  social  revolution.  The  character 
of  the  population  has  absolutely  changed.     He 


A   VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      57 

used  to  have  for  his  congregation  people  of 
refinement.  One  in  his  congregation  was  a 
raih'oad  manager,  another  was  a  judge  of  the 
Court  of  Appeals ;  there  were  lawyers  and  other 
men  of  high  intelligence  and  education.  Now 
this  element  of  refinement  is  no  longer  domi- 
nant. He  accounted  for  this  change  by  referring 
to  the  introduction  of  electricity  as  the  cause, 
which  had  so  displaced  the  horse  that  the  breed- 
ing of  horses,  which  once  was  the  source  of 
wealth  in  the  community,  had  ceased  to  be 
profitable.  With  the  disappearance  of  wealth, 
leisure  disappeared  also:  and  with  leisure  went 
the  opportunities  for  mental  cultivation.  Now 
the  young  people  have  to  scramble  for  their 
living,  and  scrambling  does  not  refine. 

The  first  house  we  drove  to  in  the  course  of 
the  pastoral  calls  was  a  visible  symbol  of  this 
vanished  prosperity.  Mr.  Hepburn  told  me  that 
it  had  been  the  mansion  house  of  a  Southern 
major  and  had  been  the  scene  of  true  old- 
time  hospitality  and  gayety.  Down  below, 
where  a  level  field  lay  brown  and  uncultivated, 
he  pointed  out  to  me  the  place  where  the  train- 
ing track  had  been.  For  all  this  I  had  to  take 
his  word.  To  my  eye  there  was  no  sign  of 
even  a  past  greatness.     My  mind  had  formed 


58      A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY    RECTOR 

an  image  of  what  a  ruined  Southern  mansion 
and  its  place  would  look  like,  and,  though  the 
image  was  one  of  sadness,  it  was  picturesque. 
On  this  February  day  there  was  nothing  pic- 
turesque in  the  scene  before  me.  It  looked 
merely  poor,  unkempt,  uninteresting.  The 
present  occupant  of  the  house,  an  old,  white- 
haired  gentleman  of  no  kin  to  the  former 
owner,  met  us  at  the  gate  and  bade  us  both 
welcome.  Here  he  dwelt  with  his  daughter. 
The  wide,  open  hallway  and  the  high-ceiled 
sitting-room  were  bare  and  scarcely  furnished. 
There  was  no  more  sign  of  the  past  within  than 
without.  But  the  way  in  which  the  old,  courtly 
gentleman  and  his  gentle-voiced,  fair-faced 
daughter  entertained  us,  with  the  same  courtesy 
and  freedom  from  apology  that  they  would 
have  shown  had  their  house  been  a  palace,  was 
a  sign  of  the  happier  and  easier  past,  the  more 
pathetic  because  of  the  utter  disappearance  of 
all  other  signs.  These  people  on  whom  the 
Episcopal  minister  made  his  pastoral  call  were 
Methodists. 

From  the  old,  time-disguised  mansion  we 
drove  to  a  new  and  small  house,  where  a  son 
of  the  old  major  lives  with  his  family.  There 
he  maintains  the  traditions  of  the  family  by 


A  VIRGINIA  COUNTEY    RECTOR      59 

raising  and  training  horses.  The  two  negro 
boys  showed  us  with  pride  a  few  of  the  thor- 
oughbreds. We  then  went  to  the  house,  where 
the  mistress  graciously  received  us.  Her  two 
young  daughters  were  charming  in  their  spon- 
taneous welcome,  not  only  to  their  old  friend, 
but  also  to  me,  a  stranger.  These  parishioners 
were  "  Campbellites,"  or,  as  they  preferred  to 
be  called,  "  Christians." 

Leaving  there,  Mr.  Hepburn  turned  his 
horse's  head  toward  home.  Through  the  bare, 
silent  woods  we  drove,  often  over  tree-stumps 
left  in  the  road  itself.  Sometimes  Mr.  Hep- 
burn would  wind  his  way  among  these  stumps 
as  a  skipper  steers  his  vessel  through  a  channel 
full  of  reefs  ;  at  other  times  he  would  "  take  " 
a  stump  with  a  wheel  as  a  boatman  shoots  a  bit 
of  rapids;  but  always  the  masterful  hands  that 
held  the  reins  guided  the  horse  with  unerring 
instinct.  Once,  as  we  went  with  a  lurch  into 
what  seemed  to  be  a  veritable  morass,  he  turned 
to  me  and  said: 

"  You  are  not  used,  I  reckon,  to  such  a  road 
as  this."  It  is  impossible  to  reproduce  his  Vir- 
ginian ways  of  speech  that  fell  so  pleasantly  on 
my  l^orthern  ears.  "  I  should  never  get  around 
my  parishes  if  I  did  not  use  such  short  cuts. 


60      A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR 

I've  been  driving  over  these  roads  for  twenty 
years,  and  nnderstand  them  by  this  time." 

"Have  you  ever  estimated  the  number  of 
miles  you  have  driven  in  the  course  of  your 
duties?"  I  inquired. 

"  A  lady  once  asked  me  that  question,  and  I 
told  her  that  I  had  driven  around  the  world 
once  and  was  well  on  my  second  journey. 
Ever  since  then  each  time  she  sees  me  she  asks 
how  far  I've  gone.  The  last  time  I  told  her 
that  I  was  homeward  bound  near  Wheeling  on 
my  third  trip." 

One  would  imagine  that  twenty  years  of  such 
persistent  labor  among  a  people  that  had  been 
declining  all  the  time  in  wealth,  leisure,  and  re- 
finement might  dismay  and  embitter  him.  Not 
so.  On  the  contrary,  his  observation  of  condi- 
tions within  the  limits  of  his  circuit  had  in- 
creased his  hope  and  faith.  True,  with  w^ealth 
had  disappeared  leisure;  but  in  former  days 
that  leisure,  he  said,  was  used  for  the  develoj)- 
ment  not  only  of  high  and  charming  qualities 
in  the  Southern  people,  but  also  of  moral  weak- 
nesses. It  was,  he  said,  the  young  man  who 
had  been  brought  up  in  idleness  that,  with  his 
chivalry  and  courtesy,  had  also  an  uncontrolled 
passionate  nature  which  found  slavery  pro\dd- 


A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      61 

ing  objects  for  it,  and  had  also  the  disinclination 
for  useful  work  which  results  in  shiftlessness 
and  improvidence.  Now  with  the  new  neces- 
sity for  occupation  there  had  come  an  improve- 
ment in  character.  In  rural  Virginia  the  mind 
of  the  young  man  of  to-day  is  undoubtedly  not 
so  cultivated  as  the  mind  of  the  young  man  of 
twenty  years  ago,  but  his  will  is  more  efficient; 
he  does  not  appreciate  the  amenities  of  life  so 
well,  but  he  values  more  highly  its  achieve- 
ments.    He  has  less  suavity,  more  force. 

As  we  turned  into  the  highway  and  drove 
toward  his  home,  Mr.  Hepburn  recounted  an 
experience  of  his  with  a  minister  of  the  denom- 
ination popularly  called  "  Campbellite."  The 
man  had  come  into  this  Virginia  community 
from  the  West,  and  brought  with  him  a  breezy 
and  aggressive  spirit  characteristic  of  his  native 
place  and  his  denomination.  He  began  by  a 
thoroughgoing  effort  to  make  proselytes.  His 
field  lay  in  one  of  Mr.  Hepburn's  parishes,  and 
his  influence  was  soon  felt  among  some  who 
were  communicants  in  the  Episcopal  Church. 
His  aim  was  to  gather  in  a  great  number  at  a 
"  baptism."  The  people  of  course  attended  his 
meetings  in  large  numbers.  Among  those 
whom  he  had  persuaded  to  be  immersed  were  a 


62      A  VIRGINIA   COITNTRY    RECTOR 

number  of  young  people  whom  Mr.  Hepburn 
had  baptized  in  infancy,  some  of  whom  indeed 
he,  as  a  sort  of  practicing  physician,  had  helped 
to  usher  into  the  world.  This,  Mr.  Hepburn 
decided,  should  be  stopped.  So  on  one  of  his 
parochial,  quasi-episcopal  tours  he  called  on 
this  "  Campbellite "  minister  to  remonstrate 
with  him  for  undermining  the  faith  of  these 
young  people,  however  mistaken  it  might  seem 
to  him  to  be,  and  to  give  him  fair  warning  that 
sturdy  opposition  would  be  made.  Then  Mr. 
Hepburn  began  a  systematic  visitation  upon 
the  families  of  all  denominations.  To  those  of 
his  own  Church  he  talked  no  more  frankly  than 
to  the  others.  The  Baptists  he  advised  to  con- 
sult with  the  Baptist  mini ster ;  the  Presbyterians 
to  consult  with  the  Presbyterian  minister;  and 
throughout  he  maintained  his  friendly  relations 
toward  the  "  Campbellites  "  themselves.  The 
"  Campbellite "  minister  endeavored  to  draw 
him  into  a  public  controversy,  but  in  vain. 
When  the  "baptism"  occurred  at  last,  only  six, 
instead  of  the  twenty-eight  advertised,  were 
immersed,  and  these  were  gathered  rightfully 
either  from  "  Campbellite "  families  or  from 
those  outside  of  any  church.  So  ended  this 
unusual  denominational  fight  for  interdenom- 


A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      63 

inational  comity  under  the  leadership  of  an 
Episcopal  minister! 

"  This  is  where  I  live,"  he  said,  as  we  turned 
in  at  a  gate.  The  road  led  to  a  large,  old- 
fashioned  house.  On  either  side  it  was  flanked 
with  a  row  of  little  one-story  cottages.  It  seemed 
as  if  the  old  house  were  reaching  out  its  arms 
with  hospitable  welcome  as  we  drove  up  under 
the  trees  to  the  high,  wide  porch.  The  place 
once  was  Hanover  Academy.  The  old  house 
was  the  home  of  the  head  master.  The  little 
cottages,  containing  a  couple  of  rooms  apiece, 
were  the  dormitories  for  the  boys.  In  the  back- 
ground, standing  in  the  middle  of  a  plowed 
field,  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  school-house, 
now  fast  falling  into  decay.  Once  upon  a  time 
Thackeray  was  a  guest  here. 

While  we  waited  for  luncheon  to  be  prepared 
we  chatted  together  before  the  open  fire  in  the 
library.  Library  I  call  it,  but  it  contained  only 
one  small  book-case  filled  with  rather  old- 
fashioned  books.  Mr.  Hepburn  studies  mainly 
in  the  open  air;  most  of  his  books  are  living 
people,  and  much  of  what  he  reads  is,  after 
these  twenty  years,  what  he  himself  has  written 
in  their  lives. 

After  a  luncheon  of  fine  Yirginia  ham  and 


64      A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR 

rice,  he  took  me  out  to  show  me  his  farm,  for 
he  raises  a  large  part  of  what  he  needs  in  his 
own  household.  lie  has  a  few  negro  servants. 
In  one  of  the  outbuildings  was  his  workshop, 
with  carpenter's  bench  and  blacksmith's  forge. 
There  he  showed  me  a  sort  of  derrick  he  had 
made  with  his  own  hands  for  lifting  invalids 
from  their  beds.  It  was  now,  as  he  remarked, 
itself  invalidated  by  the  introduction  of  trained 
nurses.  All  his  life  he  had  done  a  great  deal 
of  manual  labor.  He  used,  for  instance,  to 
cobble  the  shoes  for  his  family. 

The  colored  stable-boy  brought  to  the  door 
a  beautiful  thoroughbred  mare,  the  gift  of  a 
friend  of  Mr.  Hepburn's,  harnessed  to  the  light 
buggy  in  which  he  made  his  pastoral  tours. 
We  started  off  to  drive  over  a  part  of  his  cir- 
cuit. Our  talk  drifted  to  the  negroes  who 
lived  in  the  region. 

"  They  won't  let  me  do  any  religious  work 
among  them,"  he  told  me,  "  not  even  preach  for 
them.  But  they  often  call  upon  me  to  cure 
their  sick  and  even  to  pull  teeth  for  them." 

"Have  you  studied  medicine?"  I  inquired. 

"  You  see,  there  is  no  professional  physician 
in  a  region  like  this,"  and  he  swept  with  his 
hand  an  arc  of  the  horizon.     We  were  several 


A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      65 

miles  from  the  railroad  station.  "  So,"  he  con- 
tinued, "  for  the  sake  of  my  own  family,  I  had 
to  acquaint  myself  with  the  use  of  medicine. 
Then  the  families  in  my  parishes  would  call  me 
in  in  cases  of  emergency.  So  I've  come  to  be  a 
sort  of  physician  as  well  as  a  minister.  I  have 
even  had  to  do  surgical  work.  I  don't  know  how 
many  children  and  young  people  there  are  in  my 
parishes  at  whose  birth  I  have  attended. 

"See  how  free  that  mare  is!  She  will  go 
like  that  all  day  —  and  day  after  day.  She  will 
take  me  forty  or  fifty  miles  and  she  will  keep 
her  gait  to  the  last  mile.  To  the  end  it  will  be 
all  I  can  do  to  hold  her.  It  is  endurance  that 
shows  a  thoroughbred.  Do  you  notice  that  one 
of  her  hips  is  higher  than  the  other?  That 
is  how  she  happens  to  belong  to  me.  But  it 
makes  no  difference  for  my  purposes.  We  Vir- 
ginians admire  anything  that  is  thoroughbred." 

This  explicit  expression  of  his  joy  in  the  gen- 
uine was  implicit  in  all  that  he  said.  Admira- 
tion for  whatever  is  sterling  was  a  part  of  his 
religion. 

He  told  me  a  story  which  showed  that  his 
knowledge  of  horses  had  still  another  bearing 
upon  his  work  as  a  minister.  He  was  once 
asked  to  participate  in  the  dedication  of  a  monu- 


66      A   VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR 

ment  in  Richmond.  On  the  morning  of  the  day 
set  for  the  dedication  he  was  to  perform  a  mar- 
riage ceremony  a  number  of  miles  from  the  city, 
where  he  could  make  no  connections  by  train. 
He  calculated  his  chances  of  reaching  the  city 
on  time  and  accepted  the  invitation.  He  ex- 
plained to  the  committee  of  arrangements  that 
he  could  not  be  present  to  join  the  procession  at 
its  formation,  but  he  could  meet  the  procession 
at  a  certain  point  and  go  from  there  to  the 
monument.  On  the  committee  was  a  judge  who 
was  known  to  be  ii'religious,  and  rather  scornful 
of  ministers;  he  laughed  at  the  notion  that  any 
minister  should  be  man  of  affairs  enough  to 
keep  an  appointment  under  such  circumstances. 
When  the  day  came,  Mr.  Hepburn  went  to  the 
wedding,  performed  the  ceremony,  and  then,  by 
using  a  relay  of  horses,  rode  to  the  place  of 
appointment,  reaching  it  punctually,  joined  the 
procession,  and  made  the  prayer  of  dedication. 
The  judge  was  so  impressed  with  this  demon- 
stration of  the  truth  that  a  Christian  minister 
could  be  a  man  that,  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  he  gave  serious  thought  to  religion,  and  be- 
fore he  died  became  a  declared  Chi-istian. 
"  All  because,"  Mr.  Hepburn  explained,  "  I 
knew  the  capabilities  of  a  horse." 


A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      67 

So  scattered  is  the  population  that  rehgious 
life  lacks  almost  every  social  element,  even  the 
most  common,  except,  of  course,  the  gathering 
of  congregations  for  worship  on  Sunday,  l^o 
"church  sociables"  are  held;  and  no  clubs 
aside  from  one  or  two  missionary  societies  exist 
in  connection  with  any  of  his  churches. 

His  circuit  includes  two  large  parishes,  St. 
Martin's  and  St.  Paul's.  "Within  these  two  par- 
ishes are  six  churches,  four  in  one  parish,  two  in 
another.  In  two  of  these  six  churches,  as  I  have 
said,  he  preaches  once  in  two  weeks,  in  the 
others  once  a  month.  The  churches  of  other 
denominations  within  the  limits  of  these  parishes 
are  also  on  circuits,  and  conflict  of  services  is 
regularly  avoided;  so  that  on  the  Sunday  he 
preaches  in  any  church  he  has  a  congregation 
made  up  practically  of  the  whole  neighborhood. 
Consequently  he  preaches  regularly  to  people 
of  other  denominations.  In  one  church  he  has 
fifty  Episcopal  communicants  out  of  a  total  of 
eighty  people ;  in  another  fifty  out  of  a  total  of 
one  hundred;  in  another  fifteen  out  of  a  total 
of  seventy-five.  In  the  latter  church,  for  in- 
stance, he  has  not  a  single  male  communicant; 
but  people  of  all  the  denominations  participate 
in  the  church  service.     The  organist  is  a  Bap- 


68      A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY  RECTOR 

tist,  the  choir  leader  and  Sunday-school  super- 
intendent a  Presbyterian.  The  offering  is  re- 
ceived by  a  Methodist  and  a  Baptist.  But  of 
all  his  churches  that  is  the  one  which  has  the 
most  chui"chly  service,  and  that  is  where  the 
responses  are  clearest  and  most  enthusiastic. 
He  feels  that  there  more  than  anywhere  else  he 
is  expected  to  conduct  the  service  with  dignity 
and  scrupulous  adherence  to  the  Prayer-Book. 
The  men  who  bring  forward  the  offering  per- 
form their  duty  with  the  utmost  care.  All  work 
in  perfect  accord.  Even  in  the  Mite  Society, 
whose  funds  are  of  course  turned  into  Episcopal 
channels,  only  two  of  the  members  are  Episco- 
palians. 

Mr.  Hepburn  made  it  apparent  that  he  had 
very  clear  conceptions  of  the  duty  of  the  Epis- 
copal Church  in  such  a  community.  In  certain 
respects,  he  was  free  to  confess,  the  Methodists 
and  Baptists  might  reach  more  people  by  means 
of  the  emotional  elements  in  their  religion ;  but 
it  seemed  to  him  that  those  very  emotional  ele- 
ments resulted  in  religious  instability.  He  con- 
ceived that  it  was  his  distinctive  duty  to  stand 
for  orderliness  and  dignity  in  religion,  for  its 
permanency,  its  higher  ideals,  and  its  \ital 
obligations. 


A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      69 

As  the  church  just  described  ilhistrates  the 
friendhness  that  existed  between  the  Episco- 
pahans  and  the  other  denominations,  so  another 
church  of  which  he  spoke  ilhistrates  the  dis- 
tinctive function  of  the  Episcopalians  in  this 
country  region.  This  church  is  in  a  neighbor- 
hood where  the  other  denominations  have  had 
constant  trouble  with  the  hoodlum  element; 
but  in  his  church,  Mr.  Hepburn  told  me,  he  has 
had  no  trouble  whatever.  He  ascribed  this  to 
the  simple  dignit}^  of  the  service.  The  boys 
that  sit  around  the  stove  quietly  disperse  as 
soon  as  he  appears  with  his  surplice  in  the 
chancel.  Once  he  invited  the  clerical  club  of 
his  part  of  the  State  to  meet  at  that  very  church. 
He  knew  that  this  would  bring  a  great  crowd 
of  the  country  people  there,  and  for  once  he 
anticipated  some  trouble.  The  church  was 
packed,  and  he  saw  that  some  of  these  boys 
were  restless.  He  thereupon  selected  a  few  of 
the  more  troublesome  and  made  them  monitors. 
There  was  absolutely  good  order.  I  gathered 
not  only  from  this  fact,  but  also  from  some 
stories  that  were  told  me  about  his  experiences 
with  such  congregations,  that  his  own  personal 
dignity  and  tact,  as  well  as  the  liturgy  of  his 
Church,  were  effectual  for  good  order. 


70      A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR 

In  one  of  his  congregations  Mr.  Thomas 
[N^elson  Page,  who,  it  is  hardly  necessary  to  say, 
represents  not  only  literary  but  aristocratic  dis- 
tinction in  Virginia,  is  a  regular  attendant.  On 
Sundays,  therefore,  especially  in  summer,  Mr. 
Hepburn  faces  a  congregation  of  which  the 
front  row  consists  of  such  members  of  the 
"F.  F.  Y.s,"  and  immediately  behind  them 
people  who  can  neither  read  nor  write. 

"How  do  you  preach  to  a  congregation  of 
that  sort?"  I  inquired. 

"  Well,"  he  replied,  with  a  laugh,  "  I  preach 
at  the  second  row." 

We  came  to  a  turn  in  the  road,  and  there 
under  the  trees  stood  a  little  old  brick  church. 
Quaint,  square,  bulging  brick  pillars  supported 
the  little  porches,  one  in  front  and  one  at  the 
side.  An  old  brick  wall  with  rounded  top 
inclosed  the  churchyard. 

"  It  is  the  Old  Fork  Church,"  he  said. 

He  tied  his  horse  to  a  tree,  went  to  the  side 
porch,  leaned  down,  and  took  a  big  brass  key 
from  under  the  step. 

"Everybody  knows  it  is  kept  here,"  he 
remarked. 

The  church  was  built  about  1735,  and  has 
been  in  constant  use  ever  since.     It  still  stands 


A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      71 

the  venerated  sacred  place  of  the  vicinity,  full 
of  historic  associations,  not  only  religious,  but 
civil  and  military.  During  both  the  Revolu- 
tionary and  Civil  Wars  it  was  occupied  by  the 
soldiers.  It  has  seen  one  sect  after  another 
rise  and  spread  throughout  the  region,  and  yet 
remains  the  sanctuary  for  people  of  all  creeds 
and  of  no  creed  at  all.  The  interior  was 
strangely  unlike  an  Episcopal  church.  In  the 
middle  of  the  front  wall  rose  stiffly  an  old- 
fashioned  wine-glass  pulpit.  In  front  of  the 
pulpit  stairs  on  one  side  was  the  reading-desk 
(it  could  hardly  well  be  called  a  lectern) ;  in 
front  of  the  stairs  on  the  other  side  stood  the 
prayer-desk.  Between  these  two,  and  directly 
in  front  of  the  pulpit,  stood  what  Mr.  Hepburn 
said  "  no  one  would  call  an  altar,  I  reckon  — 
it  is  a  sure-enough  table  according  to  the  Ru- 
brics." Before  the  communion-rail,  which  was 
such  as  one  might  see  in  any  country  Methodist 
church,  stood  on  a  standard  a  simple  marble 
font.  How  old  this  font  is  is  not  exactly  known, 
but  it  antedates  the  Baptist  uprising  in  Virginia. 
Even  at  that  troublous  time  the  church  itself 
was  unharmed;  but  this  font  with  its  standard 
was  carried  away  by  the  Baptists  in  protest 
against  what  they  thought  a  false  and  perni- 


72      A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR 

cions  doctrine.  For  years  it  was  lost,  but  at 
last  it  was  discovered  in  a  cellar,  being  used  as 
a  receptacle  for  meat.  The  standard  has  ap- 
parently irretrievably  disappeared;  so  now  the 
font  rests  on  a  wooden  standard  painted  in  imi- 
tation of  marble  —  the  only  suspicion  of  pretense 
I  noticed  during  my  whole  day's  experience. 
The  wooden  pews,  the  warped  old  conununion- 
table,  even  the  little  wooden  foot-stools,  are  the 
very  ones  originally  placed  in  the  church,  and 
they  remained  without  paint  or  varnish  until 
the  first  year  of  the  twentieth  century,  when 
the  ladies  of  the  church  painted  the  interior 
with  their  own  hands. 

It  was  with  reluctance  that  I  left  this  little 
old  church.  As  I  got  my  last  glimpse  of  it  at 
a  turn  of  the  road  it  seemed  to  be  an  interpreter 
of  Yirginian  rural  life.  In  the  midst  of  this 
country  region,  apparently  so  undeveloped  as 
to  seem  to  be  new  and  unsettled,  this  church 
stood  as  a  monument  to  a  noble  past,  a  reposi- 
tory of  its  best  traditions,  and  a  symbol  of  the 
reverence  and  hope  of  the  present. 

Before  Mr.  Hepburn  left  me  at  the  station  he 
took  me  to  one  other  of  his  churches.  It  was 
a  simple,  unpretentious  wooden  structure,  ap- 
parently containing  nothing  noteworthy.     Mr. 


A   VIRGINIA    COUNTRY  RECTOR      73 

Hepburn,  however,  called  my  attention  to  a 
memorial  tablet.  The  man  to  whose  memory 
it  was  erected  had  regularly  visited  and  ad- 
dressed the  Sunday-school  for  a  long  term  of 
years,  although  he  was  a  Presbyterian;  and  so 
it  happens  that  this  memorial  to  a  Presbyterian 
stands  in  an  Episcopal  church. 

If  in  the  course  of  my  trip  my  observations 
had  led  me  to  fancy  that  institutional  Christian- 
ity was  only  another  phase  of  human  selfishness 
and  display,  and  that  religion  itself  was  but  a 
part  of  sociology,  this  one  day's  experience 
would  have  been  enough  to  convict  me  of  folly. 
The  Episcopal  Church  is  known  to  stand  among 
Protestant  bodies  distinctively  for  the  claims  of 
institutional  religion,  and  is  sometimes  charged 
with  selfishness,  more  often  with  display. 
That  these  qualities  are  not  integral  parts  of 
institutional  rehgion  even  in  its  most  pro- 
nounced form,  the  life  of  this  Virginian  rector 
is  abundant  proof.  Where  reverence  needed 
to  be  quickened  he  has  brought  the  dignity  of 
public  worship;  where  consciences  needed  to 
be  touched  he  has  brought  the  prod  of  plain 
speech;  where  he  has  been  able  neither  to 
preach  nor  to  lead  in  worship,  he  has  been  ready 
to  serve  in  the  guise  of  a  physician ;  he  has  been 


74      A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY    RECTOR 

ready  to  take  any  path  to  the  human  heart, 
though  it  were  the  heart  of  a  self-ostracized 
negro,  and  the  path  led  by  the  devious  way  of 
pulling  teeth!  So  much  for  selfishness  and  dis- 
play. And  as  to  sociology,  it  would  be  pretty 
hard  to  find  it  in  the  religious  work  of  a  minis- 
ter whose  people  are  thinly  scattered  over  a 
territory  of  four  hundred  and  eighty  square 
miles. 

In  the  last  analysis,  every  successful  religious 
work  that  I  have  seen  can  be  attributed  to  the 
same  causes  that  have  made  Mr.  Hepburn's 
work  in  a  high  degree  successful  —  the  impact 
of  a  dominant  personality.  Doctrines,  organi- 
zations, methods,  have  been  the  creatures,  not 
the  creators,  of  any  religious  life  I  have  had 
the  chance  to  observe.  The  creator  has  always 
been  a  person.  In  this  case  the  personality  of 
Mr.  Hepburn,  though  comparatively  unaided, 
was  also  comparatively  u.ntrammeled. 

Such  a  life  as  Mr.  Hepburn's  is  not  unique 
in  Virginia.  In  fact,  with  change  of  personal- 
ity and  location,  it  is  duplicated  all  through  the 
South.  One  rector  in  the  city  of  Richmond 
told  me  that  early  in  his  ministry  he  had  a 
similar  rural  parish.  His  church  was  in  the 
center  of  population,  and  there  were  preaching 


A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY    RECTOR      75 

places  eight,  ten,  thirteen  miles  away  in  differ- 
ent directions.  Most  of  his  time,  he  told  me, 
he  spent  on  horseback.  And  this  was  his  tes- 
timony as  to  the  hopefulness  of  Southern  rural 
life :  "  There  is  in  the  main  no  sign  of  moral  or 
religious  degeneracy.  Nine-tenths  of  the  theo- 
logical students  come  from  rural  parishes.  In 
the  parish  I  had,  six  men  out  of  fifty  communi- 
cants have  gone  hito  the  ministry  since  I  left, 
eighteen  years  ago  —  and  it  was  not  a  remark- 
able parish  either. 

Another  rector  in  Richmond  told  me  that  his 
first  experience  in  the  pastorate  was  in  circuit- 
riding,  all  in  connection  with  negroes;  and  that 
it  involved  all  sorts  of  work  —  going  into  their 
cabins,  giving  them  orders  on  stores,  providing 
them  with  medicines,  and  praying  with  them. 

I  have  mentioned  these  Episcopal  ministers 
because  I  think  it  is  generally  believed  that 
circuit-riding  is  peculiar  to  the  Methodists.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  I  found  it  common  in  all  the 
denominations  in  the  South.  This  fact  was  im- 
pressed upon  me  in  conversations  it  was  my 
privilege  to  have  with  several  students  at  Rich- 
mond College,  one  of  whom  was  a  minister's 
son  from  Georgia,  another  from  Florida,  an- 
other a  resident,  I  believe,  of  one  of  the  Caro- 


76      A  VIKGINIA  COUNTRY  RECTOR 

linas.  They  all  told  me  the  same  story  of 
circuit-riding.  In  the  course  of  one  of  these 
conversations  I  heard  of  one  village  of  five 
hundred  inhabitants  —  and  this  goes  to  show 
til  at  circuit  preaching  is  not  confined  to  the 
sparsely  settled  country  regions  —  which  had 
five  churches  of  different  denominations,  each 
with  a  preacher  of  its  own.  Not  one  of  these 
preachers  lived  in  the  village.  One  had  his 
home  in  the  country  about  ten  miles  away,  the 
others  all  had  their  residence  in  the  city  of 
Richmond.  This  village  was  simply  a  part  of 
their  circuits.  And  yet  some  Sundays  every 
church  was  closed.  There  at  least  there  seemed 
to  be  lacking  the  saving  power  of  the  right 
personality. 

The  student  from  Florida  was  the  son  of  a 
Baptist  minister,  in  whose  circuit  was  the  Bap- 
tist church  of  Tallahassee,  the  capital  of  the 
State.  At  first  he  lived  outside  of  Tallahassee 
and  came  periodically  to  preach  in  the  city. 
Gradually  the  church  grew,  until,  now  that  it 
had  a  membership  of  seventy-five,  he  had  moved 
to  Tallahassee,  but  had  retained  charge  over  a 
church  in  another  place.  He  was  still  a  circuit 
preacher,  with  his  headquarters  in  the  capital 
of  the  State. 


A  VIRGINIA   COUNTRY   RECTOR      77 

Nothing  could  better  illustrate  the  fact  that 
in  the  South  rural  conditions  largely  prepon- 
derate. And  if  the  country  rector  of  whose  life 
I  had  a  glimpse  is  typical  of  rural  ministry  in 
the  South,  as  I  have  good  reason  to  believe, 
there  is  justification  for  the  hopefulness  which 
I  found  to  be  a  Southern  characteristic. 


RELIGIOUS   TENDE:NrCIES   OF 

THE  :n^egro 


IV 

KELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES  OF 
THE   NEGRO 

IT  is  not  my  purpose  either  to  add  to  the 
ah*eady  numerous  descriptions  of  the  pictur- 
esque in  the  religious  hfe  of  the  negroes  in  the 
South,  or  to  attempt  any  final  answer  to  ques- 
tions concerning  the  nature  of  their  religion, 
but  simply  to  relate  some  of  the  experiences 
that  came  to  me  as  the  result  of  two  queries: 
First,  In  what  direction  and  to  what  point  has 
the  best  in  the  negroes'  religious  life  been  de- 
veloping? Second,  What  do  the  Southern 
white  people  think,  not  only  of  the  negroes'  re- 
ligion, but  also  of  the  relation  between  their 
own  religion  and  the  race  problem?^ 

1  "With  regard  to  the  latter  question  I  wish  to  call  attention  to  "  Race 
Problems  of  the  South  :  Report  of  the  Proceedings  of  the  First  Annual  Con- 
ference held  under  the  auspices  of  the  Southern  Society  for  the  Promotion 
of  the  Study  of  Race  Conditions  and  Problems  in  the  South  "  ( B.  F.  Johnson 
Pub.  Co.,  Richmond,  Va.,  1900).  Of  these  addresses,  given  from  widely  vari- 
ous points  of  view,  several  present  the  religious  aspects  of  the  race  problem. 
The  more  hopeful  and  courageous  of  these  addresses  are  more  representa- 
tive of  the  opinions  of  the  people  of  the  South  I  talked  with  than  the  two  or 
three  that  are  pessimistic  and  fearful. 

81 


82  RELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES 

l!^aturally,  in  looking  for  signs  of  progress  I 
gave  my  attention  chiefly  to  the  negro  churches 
of  the  cities.  If,  like  the  casual  traveler,  I  had 
gone  only  to  the  churches  where  both  in  num- 
bers and  in  "  character "  the  congregations 
would  seem  to  be  most  typical  of  the  colored 
people,  I  should  have  found  little  evidence  of 
progress.  In  the  cities  of  the  South  the  great 
mass  of  negroes  flock  together  in  huge  churches 
which  often  number  two  or  three  thousand 
members  each.  The  chief  service  on  Sunday  is 
held  in  the  evening,  when  the  colored  people  are 
free  from  their  work,  which  is  largely  menial. 
One  Sunday  evening  in  Charleston,  South  Caro- 
lina, I  attended  service  at  one  of  these  churches. 
The  church  was  Methodist.  The  building  was 
crowded.  The  congregation  was  singing  a 
hymn  as  I  entered.  Beneath  the  quavering  ap- 
poggiaturas  that  rose  and  fell  at  the  pleasure  of 
individuals  in  all  parts  of  the  congregation  like 
the  spray  from  waves  dashing  over  shoals,  I 
recognized  with  difficulty  an  old  familiar  psalm 
tune.  An  aged  "  mammy  "  in  a  pew  ahead  of 
me  was  swaying  back  and  forth,  with  her  eyes 
half  closed.  Here  and  there  throughout  the 
congregation  others  were  swaying  in  the  same 
rhythmic  fashion.     The  hymn  was  ended;  the 


OF  THE   NEGRO  83 

excitement  was  only  begun.  On  the  platform 
were  half  a  dozen  negro  ministers.  One  came 
forward  and  offered  prayer.  More  and  more 
fervent  he  became ;  more  and  more  he  pounded 
the  pulpit.  Inarticulate  cries  and  shrieks  rose 
from  the  pews.  The  prayer  ended,  then  came 
the  first  of  the  collections ;  there  were  three  be- 
fore the  end  of  the  service.  Another  minister 
preached  the  sermon.  He  began  colloquially, 
referring  a  great  deal  to  hunself.  Then  he 
urged  certain  moral  precepts.  Before  long  he 
was  as  wrought  up  as  his  audience;  and  finally, 
with  hoarse  and  screaming  voice,  he  described  in 
imagination  his  progress  across  Jordan,  up  the 
golden  streets,  straight  to  where  in  the  center 
on  one  throne  sat  the  Father,  to  his  right  on 
another  sat  the  Son,  and  to  the  left  on  still  an- 
other sat  the  Holy  Ghost,  whereupon,  with  a 
shout,  "  I'm  here  at  last !  "  he  cast  himself  upon 
the  very  throne  itself  —  not  merely  in  imagina- 
tion, for,  amid  the  frenzy  of  the  audience,  he 
flung  himself  into  one  of  the  pulpit  chairs  with 
his  legs  crossed  wildly  in  the  air. 

I  had  an  experience  almost  paralleling  this 
when  I  went  to  a  negro  prayer-meeting  in  the 
heart  of  the  city  of  Atlanta,  Georgia.  There, 
after  the  minister  had  finished  his  shouting  and 


84  RELIGIOUS   TENDENCIES 

gesticulating,  the  assembled  negroes  fell  upon 
their  knees,  and  then  one  of  the  number,  a  burly 
negro  with  a  brutal  face,  chanted  or  rather  in- 
toned on  two  high  notes  a  sort  of  barbarian  lit- 
any, accompanying  himself  by  rhythmically 
clapping  his  hands  and  pounding  the  bench  in 
front  of  hun.  His  words  were  hardl}^  distin- 
guishable for  the  moaning  of  those  all  about  me, 
which  resembled  nothing  so  much  as  the  lowing 
of  a  great  herd  of  cattle. 

It  is  such  exhibitions  of  uncontrolled  and  arti- 
ficially aroused  emotion  that  are  referred  to  in 
most  generalizations  about  negro  religion.  But 
it  is  to  be  remembered  that  even  in  these  pro- 
nounced cases  there  was  evidence  of  a  strong 
tendency  away  from  mere  emotionalism.  The 
preacher  in  Charleston  felt  it  necessary  to  spend 
a  good  part  of  his  sermon  in  very  plain  speak- 
ing concerning  moral  conduct;  and  the  matter 
of  the  address  made  by  the  Atlanta  preacher  at 
the  prayer-meeting,  however  violent  his  manner, 
had  direct  bearing  on  the  lives  of  his  people. 
And  Dr.  Du  Bois,  of  Atlanta  University,  whose 
published  studies  of  the  conditions  of  his  race 
have  entitled  his  testimony  to  great  weight,  told 
me  that  all  such  churches  give  similar  evidence 
of  two  factors :  one,  the  old-style  darky  whose 


OF  THE   NEGRO  85 

religion  is  of  the  hallelujah  order;  the  other,  the 
younger  generation  who  are  ashamed  of  these 
emotional  outbreaks.  The  younger  element  is, 
of  course,  finally  going  to  control.  And  one 
especially  hopeful  fact  is  to  be  noted:  partly 
because  the  church  is  for  the  negroes  their  one 
racial  rallying  place,  partly  because  the  negroes 
have  been  born  and  bred  in  a  community  where 
among  the  whites  church-going  is  the  rule,  not 
the  exception,  the  great  mass  of  negro  working 
people  go  to  church.  I  found  it  generally  safe 
to  assume  that  the  colored  porter  or  waiter  or 
driver  whom  I  happened  to  speak  to  was  an 
attendant,  almost  always  a  member,  of  a  church. 
Whatever  advance,  therefore,  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
colored  churches  is  indicative  of  an  advance  made 
by  at  least  the  respectable  part  of  the  race  abreast. 
At  Tougaloo,  Mississippi,  where  there  is  a 
"  university  "  for  negroes,  the  influence  of  wise 
religious  education  was  very  perceptible.  In 
that  country  community,  where  still  negroes  ask 
of  their  ^N^orthern  teachers  assurance  that  the 
earth  is  not  round  in  order  to  keep  their  faith  in 
the  Bible  that  speaks  of  the  "corners  of  the 
earth,"  where  still  many  negroes,  young  and  old, 
are  strongly  confirmed  in  their  belief  that  before 
"  getting  reUgion  "  a  person  must  feel  the  devil 


86  RELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES 

depart  from  some  one  or  other  definite  part  of 
his  anatomy,  where  still  a  young  negro  man 
recently  did  not  know  it  was  wrong  for  his 
pastor  to  have  two  wives,  I  attended  services  in 
two  colored  churches,  both  Baptist.  In  each 
the  service  was  perfectly  orderly  and  devout. 
The  preacher  in  one  church,  with  rich  negro 
dialect,  made  a  very  thoughtful  and  appealing 
address.  The  course  of  his  thought  was  some- 
thing like  this:  God  is  love.  If  you  are  a 
Christian  and  have  religion,  you  have  God  in 
your  heart;  therefore  you  have  love  in  your 
heart.  But  if  you  loved  one  another  you  would 
not  be  dishonest;  we  could  trust  you  with  our 
daughters  and  our  wives.  The  colored  people 
especially  need  to  love  one  another,  because 
they  have  no  leaders.  In  the  other  church  the 
sermon,  evidently  on  Job,  was  drawing  to  a 
close.  The  "  elder "  was  indicating  from  the 
experience  of  the  man  of  Uz  that  Christians 
are  not  free  from  the  attacks  of  Satan. 

After  the  service  I  talked  with  a  colored 
farmer-preacher,  with  the  "  elder  "  and  others, 
one  after  another.  They  were  unanimous  in 
saying  that  the  colored  people  of  the  neighbor- 
hood had  improved  morally  and  materially. 
They  gave  much  credit  to  the  university.     One 


OF  THE  KEGKO  87 

of  them,  a  former  gambler,  told  how  the  gam- 
bling and  the  demoralizing  horse-racing  had 
been  done  away  with,  not  by  violent  reform, 
but  by  the  change  of  the  character  of  the  col- 
ored people  themselves.  As  the  "  elder  "  said, 
"We  is  progressing  very  fast."  My  driver, 
a  young  colored  man  of  twenty-two  who 
modestly  expressed  his  ambition  to  be  a  minis- 
ter, said  that  even  in  his  short  experience  he 
had  noted  an  improvement  toward  quietness 
and  good  order. 

A  type  of  negro  church  much  higher  than 
the  Charleston  church  I  have  described  was  one 
in  Baltimore  in  which  I  attended  a  preaching 
service.  The  Christian  Endeavor  meeting 
which  preceded  the  preaching  service  showed  no 
trace  whatever  of  emotionalism ;  indeed,  except 
in  one  or  two  particulars,  its  success  in  imitat- 
ing the  most  perfunctorily  respectable  meeting 
of  white  "  Endeavorers "  was  almost  perfect. 
The  service  in  the  church,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  decidedly  ejaculatory ;  although  the  use  of 
the  decalogue,  partly  intoned  in  a  crude  way, 
with  "  gospel  hymns  "  intercalated  among  the 
responses,  indicated  an  effort  to  give  dignity  to 
the  service.  The  sermon,  which  began  as  a 
sketch   of    the   history   of    the   denomination. 


88  RELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES 

ended  with  a  series  of  loosely  joined  but  fer- 
vently expressed  appeals  to  race  pride,  and  very 
candid  and  explicit  exhortations  to  moral  recti- 
tude on  the  part  of  the  young  people.  AYhen, 
after  the  service,  I  spoke  to  the  minister,  his 
race-consciousness  changed  pitifully  from  the 
self-assertive  form  to  the  apologetic ;  and  when 
two  days  later  I  called  on  him  in  his  home, 
where  tokens  of  his  race-consciousness  in  the 
form  of  portraits  of  colored  church  dignitaries 
hung  on  the  walls  to  the  exclusion  of  all  other 
pictures,  my  interview  was  very  unsatisfactory; 
the  frankness  of  his  public  speech  was  gone; 
because  I  was  a  white  man  I  did  not  have  his 
confidence.  The  ethical  questions  he  had  raised 
in  his  sermon  he  dismissed  by  saying  that  the 
cure  for  all  evils  among  whites  as  well  as  blacks 
was  to  "  preach  Christ  and  practice  what  you 
preach."  Like  many  another  man  face  to  face 
with  a  big  problem,  he  was  willing  to  accentu- 
ate its  difficulties  in  justifying  himself  and 
others  in  the  same  condition,  but  when  it  came 
to  analyzing  the  problem  and  discussing 
methods  of  solution  he  was  content  with  a 
generalization. 

In  the  movement  away  from   an  emotional 
religion  unrelated  to  conduct,  the  churches  I 


OF  THE  NEGRO  89 

have  mentioned  were  evidently  not  leaders  but 
followers.  They  therefore  represent  a  much 
larger  number  of  the  colored  people  than  the 
churches  I  shall  describe  in  the  rest  of  this 
chapter.  These,  I  think,  may  roughly  be 
divided  into  two  classes:  those  which  believe 
that  the  emotional  character  of  the  negro  ought 
not  to  be  suppressed,  but  educated  and  guided; 
and  those  which  believe  that  that  emotional 
character  should  be  minimized  by  the  magnify- 
ing of  the  intellectual  and  ethical. 

To  the  former  avowedly  belongs  the  very 
ritualistic  Episcopal  mission  church  for  negroes 
in  Baltimore  called  St.  Mary's.  It  is  in  the 
negro  quarter,  near  Mount  Calvary  Church, 
which  sustains  it.  I  found  my  way  into  the 
church  one  afternoon.  The  interior  was  rather 
dingy.  The  altar  with  its  candles  was  elabo- 
rate. Around  the  walls  were  the  pictures  of 
the  Stations  of  the  Cross,  such  as  hang  on  the 
walls  of  Roman  Catholic  churches.  On  one  of 
the  benches  lay  a  ragged  negro  boy  asleep.  As 
I  went  to  the  place  where  an  image  of  the 
Virgin  stood,  he  roused,  and,  in  answer  to  my 
inquiry,  told  me  where  I  might  obtain  informa- 
tion regarding  the  mission.  At  the  clergy- 
house,  to  which  he  directed  me,  the  chief  im- 


90  EELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES 

pression  I  received  from  the  white  ministers  in 
charge  was  of  their  recognition  of  the  moral 
significance  of  their  work.  In  place  of  the  un- 
restrained appeal  to  the  emotions  which  the 
Baptists  and  Methodists  made  by  revivals,  they 
hoped  to  substitute  a  regulated  appeal  by  means 
of  the  liturgy  of  the  High  Church  service,  with 
its  incense,  its  lights,  its  music  directed  to 
moral  ends.  And  in  the  confessional,  they 
were  convinced,  they  had  a  means  by  which  the 
religion  of  the  individual  negro  could  be  con- 
nected in  a  very  personal  and  direct  way  with 
repentance  from  sin  and  instruction  in  right- 
eousness. Both  from  my  observation  and 
from  the  testimony  of  High  Church  Episcopa- 
lians and  Roman  Catholics  I  am  persuaded  that 
this  appeal  has  had  but  little  effect;  and  what- 
ever success  it  has  had  is  confined  almost  ex- 
clusively to  the  more  ignorant  negroes,  who 
are  most  unlikely  to  lead  in  the  development  of 
the  race. 

As  a  rule,  the  Episcopalians  of  the  South  do 
not  favor  the  ordination  of  colored  men  to  the 
priesthood,  though  there  is  a  strong  minority 
that  desires  it.  In  the  course  of  my  trip  I  per- 
sonally met  two  colored  rectors.  One,  the  rec- 
tor of  a  small  ritualistic  church  in  Charleston, 


OF  THE  NEGEO  91 

I  found  getting  ready  for  a  rehearsal;  he 
teaches  his  choir  the  Gregorian  music  by  ear. 
The  other  I  met  in  Baltimore,  where  he  is  rec- 
tor of  a  church  neither  high  nor  ritualistic. 

While  searching  for  the  colored  rector  in 
Baltimore,  I  called  on  a  barber  who  was  a  mem- 
ber of  his  church  —  St.  James's.  I  found  him 
in  his  shop.  His  appearance,  bearing,  and 
manner  had  all  the  pronounced  characteristics 
of  a  gentleman  of  the  old  school.  He  was  full 
of  enthusiasm  for  his  church,  proud  of  the  fact 
that  St.  James's  was  the  oldest  colored  vestry 
and  the  only  independent  colored  vestry  in 
Maryland,  proud  of  the  pamphlets  and  reports 
that  it  had  published,  proud  of  its  rector,  proud 
of  the  orphanage  it  was  maintaining.  I  in- 
quired whether  the  churches  were  merely  stand- 
ing for  emotional  religion,  or  helping  to  create 
character.  His  reply  had  at  least  the  merit  of 
discrimination : 

"  That  involves,"  he  said,  "  a  mental  separa- 
tion of  those  who  are  native  from  the  inroads 
of  Virginia  negroes.  On  the  whole  there  is 
improvement.  What  is  more,  there  is  increas- 
ing confidence  among  the  white  people  in  the 
colored  race.  For  instance,  the  trustees  of 
the  St.  James  orphanage,  called  the  Maryland 


92  RELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES 

Home,  all  colored  men,  had  no  experience,  but 
every  one  of  them  was  a  business  man  —  yes,  I 
am  one  of  the  trustees.  They  appealed  to  the 
charitable  public  and  were  supported  from  the 
beginning.  There  is  increasing  confidence,  too, 
among  the  colored  people  in  the  educated  men 
of  their  own  race.  They  are  readier  now  than 
formerly  to  go,  for  instance,  to  colored  physi- 
cians. As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  all  lies  within 
the  individual;  he  has  power  to  create  confi- 
dence." 

In  further  search  for  the  colored  rector  of 
St.  James's,  I  called  first  at  the  rectory,  which 
bore  no  such  obtrusively  assertive  marks  of 
race-consciousness  that  I  had  noted  in  the 
house  of  the  colored  Methodist  minister;  then 
at  the  printing-office  where  this  rector  prints 
with  his  own  hands  what  is  a  combined  parish 
paper  and  church  calendar,  and  also  the  circu- 
lars and  a  weekly  paper  for  his  church  orphan- 
age; then  at  St.  James's  Church,  a  small  church, 
smudgy  within  and  without,  on  a  sunless  side 
street;  finally  at  the  orphanage,  where  I  found 
him.  He  was  small,  clean-shaven;  his  face 
was  full  of  spai'kle  and  animation;  his  mind 
was  overflowing  with  ideals  and  schemes.  In 
this  home  for  friendless  colored  children  was 


OF  THE  NEGKO  93 

tangible  evidence  that  his  energy  was  efficient. 
He  showed  me  over  the  bnilding  —  an  ordinary 
city  house  adapted  for  its  present  use,  scrupu- 
lously clean.  The  children,  some  of  them 
picked  up  from  ash-heaps  and  gutters,  were  in 
charge  of  a  colored  kindergartner ;  they  showed 
clearly  the  fruits  of  discipline  and  good  care. 
In  the  meanwhile  he  talked  with  great  anima- 
tion, not  only  about  his  own  work,  but  as  well 
about  the  practical  problems  of  the  race.  The 
fact  that  the  Episcopal  Church  among  the  col- 
ored people  was  composed  of  the  better-paid 
and  better-educated  class  made  it  difficult,  he 
said,  to  reach  the  "masses";  for  the  negroes 
have  very  well-defined  class  distinctions  among 
themselves.  At  the  same  time  this  fact  does 
not  bring  specially  vigorous  financial  support 
to  the  Church.  He  illustrated  it  thus:  Eliza 
gets  twelve  dollars  a  month,  and  gives  one 
dollar  to  the  Church.  She  jumps  into  a  posi- 
tion yielding  fifty  dollars.  At  once  she  finds 
herself  in  a  new  circle  of  life ;  she  knows  more 
about  balls  and  parties,  more  of  the  require- 
ments of  dress,  of  reading,  of  a  multitude  of 
things  she  never  had  before.  So  she  still  pays 
one  dollar  to  the  Church.  Her  rise  seems  to  be 
away  from  her  religion;  it  seems   so  because 


94  RELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES 

her  life  now  radiates  in  so  many  more  direc- 
tions. In  this  way  the  material  progress  of  the 
race,  he  explained,  does  not  bring  proportionate 
prosperity  to  the  Church;  and  so  far  from  de- 
ploring it,  he  seemed  to  take  joy  in  the  financial 
burdens  he  had  to  bear,  so  long  as  they  were 
brought  upon  him  by  an  increasingly  i-adiating 
life  for  his  people.  He  believed  thoroughly  in 
colored  ministers  for  colored  churches ;  colored 
teachers  for  colored  pupils ;  colored  leaders  for 
colored  people.  The  existence  of  white  minis- 
ters over  colored  congregations  encourages  the 
already  too  great  characteristic  of  dependence 
in  the  negro  race,  he  maintained,  and  it  should 
be  recognized  by  Northerners  who  are  doing 
religious  and  charitable  work  among  the  ne- 
groes. As  he  put  it,  "We  want  their  advice, 
not  because  it  is  white,  but  because  it  is  right." 
He  was  frank  enough  to  say,  in  giving  a  further 
reason  for  this,  that  colored  people  under  white 
supervision  feel  irresponsible,  and  often  prefer 
white  supervision  in  order  to  be  relieved  of  re- 
sponsibility, for  "no  colored  man  finds  it  possi- 
ble to  speak  with  the  unreserved  friendliness 
to  a  white  man  that  he  would  use  in  speaking  to 
one  of  his  own  race." 

In  this  he  was  strangely  confirmed  by  what 


OF  THE  NEGRO  95 

the  priest  who  is  the  head  of  the  Catholic  Mis- 
sions to  Negroes  and  Indians  remarked  to  me. 
Although  an  Irishman,  he  was  the  most  vigor- 
ous partisan  of  the  negro  I  met  in  the  course  of 
my  trip.  "It  is  significant,"  he  said,  "that 
everything  that  has  been  done  against  the  negro 
has  turned  out  to  his  advantage :  the  Missouri 
Compromise,  the  Ku  Klux  Klan,  the  War 
against  the  Union,  and  now  negro  disenfranchise- 
ment.  It  is  not  surprising  that  no  white  man 
has  the  confidence  of  the  negro.  Why,  I  have 
worked  among  them  for  years,  and  yet  a  young 
negro  who  comes  fresh  into  this  seminary  will 
know  more  in  a  day  about  the  colored  people 
whom  I  come  in  contact  with  than  I  am  able  to 
find  out  in  a  lifetime.  It  is  hard  to  persuade  the 
Catholic  Church  to  ordain  negroes  to  the  priest- 
hood ;  but  we  must  have  them.  That  we  have 
not  is  due  to  race  prejudice ;  but  to  show  how 
unreasonable  and  inconsistent  that  prejudice  is, 
these  same  people  that  object  to  negro  priests 
took  up  a  little  while  ago  the  fad  of  going  to 
confession  in  Washington  to  a  regular  corn-field 
nigger  priest." 

In  reply  to  my  inquiry  whether  colored  choirs 
could  be  trained  to  sing  the  Gregorian  music, 
he  replied: 


96  RELIGIOUS  TENDENCIEIS 

"  Colored  churches  don't  need  choirs.  Yon 
know  the  proverb  we  have,  God  Almighty  at 
one  end  of  the  church  and  the  devil  at  the  other. 
Well,  it  doesn't  apply  to  them.  The  negro  has 
his  own  music,  and  it's  an  ornament  to  his  char- 
acter." 

In  Washington  I  called  on  Dr.  J.  L.  M. 
Curry,  Agent  of  the  Peabody  and  Slater  Funds. 
I  found  him  immersed  in  a  mass  of  correspon- 
dence, and  very  busy.  When  I  stated  to  him  that 
my  errand  was  to  look  into  the  religious  condi- 
tions of  the  South,  he  interjected  between  di- 
rections to  his  private  secretary,  "  Well,  young 
man,  if  you  are  going  South  to  study  the  nigger 
question,  you  might  just  as  well  start  for  the 
moon."  Nothing  could  better  illustrate  the 
fact  that  every  problem  in  the  South  seems  to 
the  Southerner  to  be  the  race  problem ;  and  in- 
cidentally that  the  Southern  people,  even  the 
most  patient  and  catholic,  have  become  wearied 
of  the  long  years  in  which  they  have  borne  the 
inroads  of  self-complacent  ]!!^ortherners  with 
theories  about  the  negro.  On  the  other  hand, 
when  I  stated  more  fully  my  purpose  and  pre- 
sented letters  of  introduction  from  The  Outlook, 
Dr.  Curry's  cordiality  was  unbounded;  he  left 
liis  pressing  work  to  give  me  such  invaluable 


OF  THE  NEGEO  97 

information  and  assistance  as  only  his  wide  ex- 
perience and  liberal  mind  could  give.  This  was 
typical  of  my  experience  in  the  South.  One 
young  Southerner  left  his  office  and  spent  hours 
with  me,  urging  with  hot,  impetuous  language 
the  inunediate  necessity  for  the  education  of  the 
negroes.  His  nervous  energy  seemed  to  justify 
his  optimism,  too.  Through  him  I  got  a  glimpse 
of  that  not  inconsiderable  number  of  young 
Southern  men  who  are  putting  their  minds  and 
their  strength  into  the  solution  of  the  race  prob- 
lem, not  with  academic  theories,  but  with  prac- 
tical determination  and  with  joy  in  the  conflict 
that  would  gladden  the  heart  of  a  Roosevelt  or 
a  Riis.  He  spoke  highly,  by  the  way,  of  the 
work  that  the  Presbyterian  Church  is  doing  to 
give  the  negroes  religious  training  out  of  their 
usual  emotionalism. 

The  lowly,  compassionate  Jesus,  who  ate  with 
publicans  and  sinners  and  did  not  hesitate  to 
talk  with  a  Samaritan  woman,  has  no  sincerer 
and  more  truly  democratic  followers  than  the 
Christian  people  of  the  South.  'No  inquiry  into 
religious  conditions  of  America  could  easil}^ 
omit  the  query.  What  do  these  Southern 
Christians  say  to  the  social  ostracism  of  the 
black  race?     That  was  a  question  I  found  it 


98  RELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES 

difficult,  as  a  ISTortherner,  to  propound  without 
a  tone  of  seeming  self-righteousness.  Ask  it  I 
did,  however,  with  as  much  candor  and  tact  as 
I  could.  Two  answers  I  think  it  worth  while  to 
report.  One  was  from  a  Methodist  minister  of 
Virginia.  At  first  he  was  rather  reticent,  but 
volunteered  to  say,  "  What  phase  are  you  seek- 
ing for?"  and  then  added,  "We  give  contri- 
butions for  the  support  of  colored  churches,  and 
have  a  kindly  feeling  for  the  race.  The  South 
understands  the  negro  better  than  the  North, 
and  treats  him  better,"  and  so  forth  in  the  usual 
strain. 

"But  how  about  the  practical  side  of  their 
fife?     Clerkships,  for  instance?" 

"  Why,  they  can  have  them  in  their  own 
stores,"  he  replied  magnanimously,  "  but  not 
in  white  stores.  The  thinking  portions  of  the 
race  do  not  want  such  positions  and  would  be 
uncomfortable  in  them.  So  with  social  posi- 
tion," and  he  cited  Booker  Washington,  with 
strong  praise. 

"  But,"  I  persisted,  "  if  a  man  should  attempt 
personally  to  practice  Christ's  precepts  by 
mingling  with  the  colored  people?" 

"  He  would  be  cured  in  a  week,  not  only 
by  ostracism,  but  by  flooding  himself  with  a 


OF  THE   NEGRO  99 

lot  of  negroes  physically,  socially,  and  morally 
offensive." 

That  the  sacrifices  thus  involved  might  be  a 
part  of  the  discipleship  of  Christ  did  not  seem 
to  be  worth  considering  by  this  minister.  He 
later  gave  a  more  plausible  reason  when  he 
likened  social  equality  for  the  negro  to  a  razor 
in  the  hands  of  a  child. 

The  other  answer  was  given  by  a  lady  of 
great  personal  charm,  of  profoundly  democratic 
convictions  and  sympathies,  who  belonged  by 
right  of  inheritance  and  of  personal  experience 
more  to  the  South  as  a  whole  than  to  any  one 
State : 

"  The  attitude  of  the  Southern  people  toward 
the  negro  would  be  defended  by  the  Southern 
Christian  on  the  ground  that  it  was  for  the  best 
good  of  the  negro.  To  recognize  socially  a 
cultivated  negro  and  his  wife  would  work  an 
injury  to  the  colored  race  by  creating  false  ex- 
pectations on  the  part  of  the  unfit.  Moral 
brotherhood  is  recognized,  but  not  equality;  the 
relation  of  helper  to  helped,  but  not  the  relation 
of  reciprocity." 

Except  in  the  Roman  Cathohc  churches  of 
the  South,  it  is  very  rarely  that  negroes  worship 
in  the   same  churches  with  the  whites.     This 


100  RELIGIOUS  TENDENCIES 

was  not  the  case  before  the  war,  I  was  told,  in 
many  parts  of  the  South.  A  Baptist  church  of 
Charleston  still  reserves,  accoi-ding  to  its  ante- 
bellum custom,  one  gallery  for  colored  people. 
It  is  usually  well  occupied,  and  their  rights  are 
scrupulously  maintained  by  the  church,  even 
when  the  seating  capacity  is  taxed  to  its  utmost. 
Most  of  the  colored  people  who  attend  are 
members  of  colored  churches,  but  they  come  to 
the  service  in  this  white  church  because  they 
feel  that  they  are  getting  from  the  preaching 
there  something  which  they  could  not  get  from 
their  own  ministers. 

With  one  of  the  colored  Baptist  ministers  of 
the  city  I  had  an  interview.  His  chief  concern 
about  his  people  was  for  their  education.  As 
he  said,  "It  is  hard  to  make  good  Christians  of 
them  when  they  are  ignorant."  He  was  there- 
fore maintaining  a  school  for  negroes,  modeled 
in  a  humble  way  after  Tuskegee.  He  spoke 
with  dignified  intensity  of  the  low  moral  condi- 
tion of  the  negroes  in  Charleston.  "Every 
time  I  get  a  chance  I  talk  about  it,  though  the 
colored  people  don't  like  to  hear  about  it.  Yes, 
licentiousness  too."  When  I  saw  him  he  had 
just  had  a  revival  in  his  church,  and  he  was 
giving  his  attention  to  the  young  converts  by 


OF  THE  NEGEO  101 

trying  to  give  them  something  to  do.  He  com- 
plained, however,  that  there  was  no  way  of 
setting  them  to  work  because  they  were  igno- 
rant. He  thus  reverted  to  the  supreme  need 
of  education. 

One  gentleman  with  whom  I  talked  had  the 
distinction  of  being  at  the  same  tune  a  South- 
erner through  and  through,  the  son  of  a  slave- 
owner, and  the  head  of  an  institute  maintained 
by  the  Methodist  Church  South  for  the  higher 
education  of  negroes.  As  a  young  man,  I  was 
told  by  one  who  knew  him  well,  he  felt  the 
burden  of  the  ignorance  of  the  newly  freed 
slaves,  and,  sacrificing  the  life  of  refinement 
for  which  he  had  pronounced  taste,  and  facing 
probable  ostracism,  he  took  up  the  burden.  As 
a  matter  of  fact  he  has  not  been  ostracized, 
though  necessarily  isolated.  After  years  of 
experience  it  was  his  deliberate  opinion,  ex- 
pressed in  his  conversation  with  me,  that  al- 
though most  of  the  Southern  white  people 
know  the  traits  and  general  character  of  the 
mass  of  the  colored  people  better  than  the  peo- 
ple of  the  ]N'orth  could  possibly  know  them, 
they  were  utterly  unacquainted  with  the  grow- 
ing class  of  educated  negroes,  knew  nothing 
of  their  manner  of  life,  their  attainments,  their 


102  RELIGIOUS    TENDENCIES 

ambitions,  their  religion.  AVhatever  intimacy 
there  has  been  in  the  past  between  the  races 
has  been  that  growing  out  of  the  relation  of 
servant  to  master.  Wherever  that  relation  has 
ceased  the  intimacy  has  disappeared.  As  a 
consequence  the  significant  improvement  in  the 
religious  life  of  the  negroes  is  coming,  like 
the  rest  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  not  with 
observation. 

The  church  which,  better  than  any  other  I 
happened  upon,  represents  those  leaders  of  the 
negroes  who  are  guiding  the  race  away  from  a 
merely  emotional  religion,  was  a  colored  Con- 
gregational church  of  Atlanta.  Without  ex- 
ception, white  or  black,  it  was  apparently  the 
most  progressive  and  best  organized  church  I 
saw  in  the  South.  The  minister  is  a  graduate 
of  Fisk  University  and  Yale  Divinity  School. 
Connected  with  the  church  is  a  Men's  League, 
resembling  somewhat  a  "  lodge "  without  se- 
crecy or  insurance,  a  Literary  Society,  which, 
as  I  happened  casually  to  see  it  at  one  of  its 
meetings,  resembled  such  a  literary  society  as 
might  be  found  in  a  New  England  town,  and  a 
Young  People's  Society.  But  the  distinguish- 
ing characteristic  of  the  church  is  the  fact  that 
the  whole  church  itself  is  organized  into  what 


OF  THE   NEGKO  103 

are  called  Circles  of  Help.  Each  circle  consists 
normally  of  ten  members,  every  one  of  whom 
has  a  distinctive  dnty.  Number  one  in  each 
circle  is  chairman,  through  whom  the  circle  re- 
ceives the  pastor's  directions;  number  two  is 
assistant  chairman;  number  three  keeps  the 
records  and  corresponds  with  absent  members 
of  the  circle;  number  four,  the  treasurer,  is  re- 
sponsible for  raising  church  funds  within  his 
circle;  number  five  promotes  the  devotional 
life;  number  six  promotes  social  life,  and  espe- 
cially drives  off  the  demon  of  sanctimony; 
number  seven  sees  that  attention  is  given  to 
the  sick;  number  eight  sees  that  members  visit 
one  another;  number  nine  sees  to  the  relief  of 
poverty;  number  ten  is  general  promoter  of 
new  methods.  The  minister  receives  monthly 
reports  from  the  circles,  and  when  I  talked 
with  him  was  planning  to  have  an  occasional 
meeting  of  the  same  "numbers,"  all  the 
"  sevens,"  for  instance,  for  the  consideration 
of  their  special  work.  Although  the  church 
has  barely  four  hundred  members,  it  is  far 
more  influential  than  some  of  the  negro  churches 
with  a  membership  of  two  or  three  thousand. 

During  my  visit  at  Atlanta  I  had  occasion  to 
call  with  this  minister  at  the  homes  of  some  of 


104        TENDENCIES   OF  THE   NEGRO 

his  people.  Of  such  homes  among  the  negroes 
as  these  the  white  people  know  very  little. 
The  door  is  locked  on  both  sides  —  on  the  side 
of  the  whites  by  their  dictum  of  social  separa- 
tion; on  the  side  of  the  educated  negroes  by 
their  already  achieved  race  pride  and  race 
exclusiveness. 

In  conclusion  I  am  reminded  of  the  Irish- 
man's saying  that  in  one  respect  all  women  are 
alike  —  in  that  they  are  all  different.  My  one 
generalization  concerning  the  religious  life  of 
the  negroes  in  the  South  is  that  without  qualifi- 
cation it  is  impossible  to  generalize. 


:n^ew  tendencies  m  the 

OLD   SOUTH 


KEW  TEISTDEIS^CIES  IK   THE 
OLD    SOUTH 

IN  most  of  the  sermons  and  religious  addresses 
I  heard  in  the  South  the  conception  of  re- 
ligion seemed  to  be  that  of  a  preparation  for  a 
world  to  come  rather  than  a  mode  of  earthly 
life.  The  matter  for  chief  concern  seemed  to 
be,  not  for  the  relation  of  the  individual  with 
his  God  and  his  fellow-men,  but  rather  the 
condition  of  his  soul  after  death.  In  respect, 
therefore,  to  religion  which  did  not  deal  pri- 
marily with  the  affairs  of  a  rational  existence 
in  this  world,  congregations  seemed  to  be  ex- 
pected to  suspend  their  reasoning  power  and 
put  in  its  place  an  unquestioning  credence  — 
called  faith  —  in  the  formulas,  always  purport- 
ing to  be  derived  directly  from  the  Bible,  which 
set  forth  the  way  to  attain  a  happy  eternal  des- 

107 


108  NEW   TENDENCIES 

tiny.  It  would  be  a  mistake  to  infer  from  this 
that  I  found  religion  divorced  from  morality. 
On  the  contrary,  nowhere  have  I  heard  moral 
precepts  more  explicitly,  even  dogmatically, 
asserted  than  by  Christian  people  of  the  South. 
But  these  precepts  seemed  to  be  regarded  either 
as  tests  for  ascertaining  the  sincerity  of  conver- 
sion or  as  rules  more  or  less  arbitrarily  imposed 
upon  believers.  Religion  was  considered  to  be 
not  so  much  motive  infusing  all  life  as  one  of 
the  departments,  though  to  be  sure  the  chief 
department,  of  existence. 

This  view  of  religion  may  account  for  the 
fact  that  I  found  religion  easily  alluded  to 
under  all  sorts  of  circumstances.  A  group  of 
men  in  a  Georgia  city  club,  their  "  high  balls  " 
being  all  the  while  brought  to  them  in  rapid 
succession  by  the  waiter,  were  as  ready  to  men- 
tion, and  dismiss,  the  subject  of  religion  as  the 
subject  of  college  education  or  initiation  into 
the  ancient  order  of  "  Buffaloes." 

The  prevalence  of  this  view  of  religion  makes 
it  easy  to  understand  why  there  is  so  large  a 
proportion  of  church  membership  to  the  popu- 
lation in  the  South.  It  is  much  simpler  to 
forego  the  right  of  rationalizing  religion  and 
keeping  aloof  from  the  Church  if  one  is  assured 


IN   THE   OLD   SOUTH  109 

that  by  joining  the  Church  one  need  substitute 
unquestioning  credence  only  in  regard  to  a  fu- 
ture life  considerably  removed  from  every-day 
affairs.  In  Richmond,  Virginia,  the  Secretary 
of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  a 
Pennsylvanian,  told  me  that  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  find  men  who  would  do  personal 
religious  work.  On  the  other  hand,  both  from 
testimony  and  from  direct  evidence,  I  was  con- 
vinced that  both  church  attendance  and  church 
membership  were  natural  and  expected.  The 
secretary  I  have  just  mentioned,  in  the  same 
breath  in  which  he  deplored  the  lack  of  spiritu- 
ality of  the  young  men  of  Richmond,  declared 
that  it  was  "  the  thing  "  there  for  men  to  belong 
to  the  Church.  Others  more  intimately  asso- 
ciated with  the  city —  one,  for  instance,  a  physi- 
cian, whose  conversation  leaned  more  naturally 
to  the  race  problem  in  its  pathological  aspects 
and  to  politics  than  to  religion — told  me  without 
qualification  that  this  was  true.  On  the  Sunday 
that  I  spent  in  Richmond  I  attended  the  morn- 
ing service  of  a  Baptist  church.  The  congre- 
gation filled  the  pews.  I  was  ushered  to  a  pew 
toward  the  front,  where  I  was  shown  every 
courtesy  by  the  occupants.  It  was  Communion 
Sunday,   and   as  the  church  practiced  "  close 


110  NEW  TENDENCIES 

Communion,"  I  withdrew  at  the  end  of  the 
preaching  service;  but,  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life  under  those  circumstances,  I  found  myself 
in  the  minority.  The  majority  of  the  congre- 
gation— and  I  do  not  think  my  judgment  re- 
garding this  is  at  fault  —  remained  for  Commu- 
nion. This  experience  helped  me  to  understand 
why  it  happened  that  there  were  lying  on  the 
table  in  my  room  at  the  hotel  two  books  which 
I  had  at  first  thought  to  be  the  forgotten  pos- 
sessions of  a  former  occupant  of  the  room,  but 
soon  discovered  to  be  a  Book  of  Common 
Prayer  and  a  Testament  and  Psalms,  the  prop- 
erty of  the  hotel. 

About  this  ingenuous  regard  for  the  externals 
of  religion  there  is  the  same  elusive  charm  that 
hovers  over  Southern  hospitality.  It  defies 
analysis,  but  it  is  very  persuasive.  An  incident 
told  me  by  a  ISTorthern  man  describes  this  better 
than  any  one  experience  I  had.  With  another 
Northerner,  he  was  guest  at  the  table  of  an  old 
Virginia  family.  When  the  dessert  had  been 
served,  the  old  negro  serving-man  brought  in, 
on  the  same  tray  on  which  he  had  brought  the 
dishes,  a  prayer-book.  The  hostess  and  mother, 
an  elderly  lady,  then  read  a  psalm,  and  after- 
ward, with  the  whole  family,  knelt  there  at  the 


IN   THE   OLD   SOUTH  111 

table  and  read  the  beautiful  form  of  prayer  pre- 
scribed for  use  in  families.  In  these  simple  but 
formal  devotions  the  two  IS^orthern  guests 
joined,  of  course.  Then  they  all  withdrew  to 
the  drawing-room  for  their  coffee.  To  these 
two  men  in  their  own  homes  this  procedure 
would  have  been  embarrassing.  There  it  seemed 
to  be  a  part  of  the  gracious  hospitality  that  had 
been  extended  to  them.  And  as  religious  ob- 
servances are  in  the  South  as  naturally  included 
in  the  hospitality  of  the  home  as  anything  else, 
so,  conversely,  hospitality  in  the  South  is  an 
integral  part  of  the  church  services.  In  the 
hotel  at  Richmond  I  was  standing  in  front  of 
the  church  register  on  Sunday  evening,  trying 
to  decide  which  of  the  Presbyterian  churches  I 
should  attend,  when  a  young  man  approached, 
and,  as  I  turned,  offered  to  me,  with  some  apol- 
ogy, a  card  of  the  Brotherhood  of  St.  Andrew, 
and  invited  me  to  attend  Grace  Episcopal 
Church.  He  explained  that  he  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  doing  this  sort  of  thing,  but  undertook 
to  act  as  a  substitute  for  a  friend  of  his.  He 
had  ventured  to  speak  to  me  because  I  was  look- 
ing at  the  bulletin  of  churches.  How  could  I  help 
accepting  his  invitation,  so  courteously  and  per- 
sonally given?     At  the  church,  as  I  was  stand- 


112  NEW   TENDENCIES 

ing  alone  in  the  vestibule,  a  gentleman  of  mili- 
tary bearing  entered,  and,  at  once  seeing  that  I 
was  a  stranger,  bade  me  welcome  as  if  I  were  a 
guest  at  his  own  house,  and  proffered  me  a  seat. 
Soon  afterwards  I  was  greeted  by  another  host; 
I  had  been  welcomed  to  the  church,  now  I  was 
welcomed  to  the  pew.  They  may  have  "hos- 
pitality committees  "  in  the  South ;  if  they  do, 
they  count  "  hospitality  "  the  genus,  and  "  com- 
mittee" the  species.  It  is  the  reverse  in  the 
North,  where  there  are  committees  for  every- 
thing, and  incidentally  for  welcoming  strangers. 
Northern  church  hospitality  is  a  system;  South- 
ern church  hospitality  is  an  instinct. 

At  Petersburg,  where  I  spent  only  a  part  of 
one  day,  it  happened  that  I  felt  more  of  the  his- 
toric religious  atmosphere  than  anywhere  else 
in  the  South.  Perhaps  that  was  due  to  the 
sight  of  the  ruined  old  Blandf  ord  Church,  which 
stands  on  the  hill  overlooking  the  city,  guard- 
ing the  graves  of  Confederate  dead  and  bear- 
ing the  scars  that  it  received  while  in  the  line 
of  fire  from  the  Federal  troops.  A  ruin  always 
suggests  history.  It  was  built  before  1731,  but, 
unlike  the  old  Fork  Church  I  saw  near  Hanover, 
it  had  long  been  out  of  use.  It  represented, 
however,  the  old  parish  which  from  1650  on- 


IN  THE   OLD   SOUTH  113 

ward  for  many  decades  was  the  ruling  power. 
The  Church  of  England  in  those  days  was  sup- 
ported by  glebe.  The  vestry  had  rights  over 
property  and  even  over  life.  From  where  I 
stood  I  could  see  the  "crater"  made  by  the 
explosion  of  the  Confederate  magazine;  the 
place  where  Butler's  troops  faced  Lee's  and 
Jackson's;  and  off  toward  the  sea  the  place 
where,  three  generations  before,  Lafayette  had 
been  stationed.  Every  foot  of  ground  seemed 
to  have  been  harried  first  by  British,  then  by 
Federal  "invaders."  And  the  history  of  re- 
ligion there  seemed  to  be  of  conflict,  too:  the 
Scotch  Presbyterians,  who  were  the  first  set- 
tlers; the  more  aristocratic  families  of  the 
Anglican  communion ;  the  Baptists,  zealous  for 
doctrine;  the  Methodists,  rising  against  the  fox- 
hunting, carousing  Episcopal  parsons;  the 
Disciples,  forming  a  new  sect  in  remonstrance 
against  sectarianism;  finally,  Bohemians  from 
Prague  and  Pilsen,  who  were  all  Roman  Catho- 
lics—  one  ecclesiastical  army  after  another  has 
made  of  this  battle-ground  of  two  wars  a  spirit- 
ual battle-ground  as  well.  Land  so  plowed 
and  harrowed  does  not  furnish  much  of  a  crop  — 
principally  "  ground-peas  "  and  doctrines.  My 
host   and    guide,    an    intense   Virginian,   well 


114  NEW    TENDENCIES 

versed  in  local  history,  had  not  much  to  say  of 
distinctively  religious  conditions;  what  he  did 
say  I  may  briefly  sunnnarize  as  follows:  Two 
old  Presbyterian  churches,  which  were  built 
when  the  women  brought  in  their  aprons  the 
sand  for  the  mortar,  still  stand;  the  Episco- 
palian churches,  which  in  the  old  days  of  the 
glebe  were  under  a  rector  and  curate,  are  com- 
bined in  a  circuit  under  one  rector;  Methodists 
and  Baptists  are  numerically  strong;  and  the 
Catholics  are  segregated  locally  and  racially. 
In  one  respect  this  is  a  picture  of  all  of  the 
South  that  I  saw :  a  country  still  suffering  from 
the  desolating  effects  of  civil  and  spiritual 
war. 

This  sectarian  spirit  is  partly  due  to  the 
regard  for  externals  I  have  referred  to;  for 
there  is  bound  to  be  disunion  where  there  is 
more  allegiance  to  the  uniform  than  to  the 
Leader;  but  it  is  also  partly  due  to  the  indi- 
vidualism of  the  South.  The  peculiai'  charac- 
ter of  Southern  individualism  I  have  not  yet 
been  able,  even  measurably,  to  analyze.  As  I 
saw  it,  however,  its  distinctive  quality  seemed 
to  be  institutional.  The  personal  individualism 
of  the  IS^ew  England  Puritan,  whose  prophets 
are  Emerson   and   Thoreau,  and  whose  types 


IN   THE  OLD   SOUTH  116 

throng  the  stories  of  Miss  Wilkins  and  Miss 
Jewett,  seemed  to  me  to  be  conspicuously 
absent;  but  in  its  place  there  was  an  institu- 
tional individualism  connoted  everywhere.  The 
part  was  assumed  to  be  greater  than  the  whole: 
in  politics,  the  State  than  the  ^N^ation,  and  the 
city  than  the  State;  in  religion,  Protestantism 
than  Christianity,  and  the  denomination  than 
either.  The  more  individual  the  institution, 
the  more  did  I  hear  of  insistence  on  its  rights. 
But  not  an  iota  further  did  individualism  go. 
In  the  democracy  of  the  South,  which  in  many 
respects  is  more  distinctively  American  than 
that  of  any  other  portion  of  the  Union,  the  unit 
is  something  larger  than  the  individual  voter. 
The  ordinances  of  secession  were  passed,  with 
but  one  exception,  without  being  submitted  to 
the  people,  and  this  year  of  1901  has  seen  one 
Southern  State  establish  a  new  Constitution,  for 
the  express  purpose  of  asserting  the  individual- 
ism of  that  State,  without  popular  ratification. 
In  much  the  same  way  in  the  Protestantism  of 
the  South,  it  is  the  hberty  of  the  denomination 
rather  than  that  of  the  individual  soul  that  is 
asserted.  Doctrinal  dissent  of  any  kind,  of 
which  any  denomination  is  sponsor,  I  found  to 
be  more  in  evidence  in  the  South  than  anywhere 


116  NEW   TENDENCIES 

else;  but  I  do  not  think  I  met  a  single  South- 
erner who  openly  confessed  to  skepticism. 

When  I  left  Kichmond,  the  air  was  raw  and 
chill;  when,  the  next  morning,  I  arrived  in 
Charleston,  the  air  was  as  balmy  as  the  quiet 
breeze  of  a  June  day  in  my  Maine  home  under 
the  pines.  Every  breath  I  di-ew  proved  to  me 
that  during  the  night  I  had  been  whisked  into  a 
new  world.  And  as  I  drove  through  the  streets 
every  sight  told  me  of  an  unfamiliar  land. 
Everything  looked  grizzled,  weather-beaten, 
ancient.  The  houses  were  low  and  large,  with 
wide,  high-pillared  piazzas,  one  above  another. 
The  full-leaved  magnolias  and  the  tropical 
palmettoes  in  the  door-yards  emphasized  the 
strangeness.  Soon  I  was  wandering  about  the 
city;  under  the  portico  of  old  St.  Philip's 
Church,  in  the  belfry  of  which  each  night  there 
shines  a  beacon  to  guide  the  sailors  in  the  har- 
bor ;  past  the  quaint  old  Huguenot  Church,  the 
only  one  existing  in  America;  along  the  South 
Battery  that  looks  out  to  Fort  Sumter ;  then  up 
Meeting  Street  to  St.  Michael's  Church.  As  at 
St.  Philip's,  the  sidewalk  runs  beneath  the  por- 
tico; like  almost  every  other  building  in  the 
city,  the  stucco  has  fallen  in  great  patches  from 
its  walls.     Beneath  the  pavement  not  only  of 


IN   THE   OLD   SOUTH  117 

the  churchyard  walks,  but  also  of  the  vestibule 
itself,  lie  the  dead  whose  very  names  mean 
South  Carolina — Rutledge,  Pinckney,  De  Saus- 
sure.  The  sexton,  a  comparatively  young  man, 
proudly  showed  me  the  church,  which  for  nearly 
a  century  and  a  half  has  survived  in  spite  of 
British  artillery  and  Federal  cannonading,  of 
cyclone  and  earthquake.  More  eloquent  of  con- 
servatism than  the  old  "  Governor's  pew,"  once 
"  occupied  by  General  Washington,"  or  the  old 
organ  made  in  1767,  or  the  pulpit  panel  stolen 
by  some  one  who  followed  the  army  of  occupa- 
tion in  1865  and  some  years  later  anonymously 
returned,  or  the  service  of  altar  plate  stolen 
from  its  refuge  in  Columbia  during  the  war,  of 
which  only  two  pieces,  a  flagon  and  a  cover, 
were  recovered,  one  from  a  N^ew  York  pawn- 
shop, the  other  from  somewhere  in  Ohio,  was 
the  simple  statement  of  the  sexton  that  he  had 
held  his  office  for  ten  years,  that  his  father,  now 
dead,  had  been  sexton  for  fifty  years  before 
him,  that  his  mother,  now  eighty-seven,  still  cut 
the  bread  for  Communion,  and  that  the  old  bell- 
ringer  who  had  lately  died  had  rung  the  chimes 
for  sixty-one  years. 

To  this  historic  past  the  Huguenot  Church  is 
even  a  more  impressive  monument.   Its  building 


118  NEW   TENDENCIES 

is  only  a  half-century  old;  but  its  organization 
dates  probably  from  the  very  year  of  the  found- 
ing of  the  city.  Gradually,  with  the  loosing  of 
the  bond  of  a  distinctive  language,  the  Hugue- 
not families  became  absorbed  into  the  Episco- 
pal which  was  the  established  church,  and  the 
Huguenot  Church  grew  weaker  and  weaker. 
But  with  the  change  from  the  use  of  French  to 
English  the  church  revived,  and  to-day  it  re- 
mains, the  only  one  of  its  name  in  this  land.  It 
was  my  privilege  to  attend  the  service  there 
Sunday  afternoon,  and  to  join  in  the  simple, 
impressive  liturgy  which,  unchanged  almost 
wholly  except  in  tongue,  preserved  the  form  of 
worship  used  by  the  Huguenots  of  Neuchatel 
and  Valangin.  It  was  a  still  greater  privilege 
to  know  the  venerable  and  revered  pastor  of  the 
church.  Dr.  Vedder,  and  be  enriched  not  onl}^ 
by  the  genial  hospitality  of  himself  and  his 
gracious  wife,  but  also  by  his  store  of  know- 
ledge of  the  city  and  its  life. 

Much  of  what  elsewhere  is  regarded  as  es- 
sential to  human  nature  seems  to  have  been 
dispensed  with  in  Charleston.  The  participa- 
tion of  Charleston  in  the  project  of  secession  I 
can  now  regard  only  as  an  act  of  supereroga- 
tion; for,  though  the  city  is  now  a  loyal  portion 


IN   THE    OLD   SOUTH  119 

of  the  Union,  to  all  intents  and  purposes  it 
seems  as  separate  from  the  United  States  as  if 
it  were  an  independent  municipality.  In  no 
respect  is  this  isolation  shown  in  better  light 
than  by  the  contempt  which  the  highest  society 
of  the  city  displays  toward  the  plutocrat.  Al- 
though at  its  most  exclusive  functions  may  be 
seen  a  sempstress  or  a  street-car  conductor  whose 
family,  impoverished  by  "  the  War  between  the 
States,"  has  in  no  way  lost  its  social  status,  the 
merely  rich  are  inexorably  excluded.  No  news- 
paper there  would  venture  or  care  to  print  an 
account  of  these  exclusive  assemblies.  The 
social  set  that  provides  the  standard  of  social 
taste  and  tone  for  the  city  would  not  tolerate 
the  sycophancy  of  the  "yellow  journals,"  or 
indeed  journals  of  other  hue,  that  devote  whole 
columns  to  what  rich  women  wear  at  the  I*^ew 
York  Horse  Show.  Charleston  has  a  human 
nature  of  its  own,  in  this  respect  so  admirable 
that  it  is  worthy  of  mention  in  an  account  of 
religious  life  in  America.  Paradoxical  as  it 
may  sound,  Charleston  is  thus  undoubtedly 
typical  of  the  "Old  South."  From  such  a 
human  nature  there  naturally  grows  a  religious 
conservatism,  not  polemical  or  self-assertive,  as 
in   the   IS^orth,  but  when  undisturbed  affable, 


120  NEW   TENDENCIES 

when  controverted  merely  cold,  like  the  con- 
servatism of  an  English  university. 

In  one  respect,  however,  human  natvire  in 
Charleston  is  like  human  nature  in  other  places: 
ministers  recuperate  from  Sunday  by  getting 
together  and  talking  "  shop  "  on  Monday !  —  on 
the  principle,  I  suppose,  of  similia  similibus 
curantur.  To  this  meeting  I  was  invited.  The 
paper  read  was  on  methods  to  be  used  in  visit- 
ing the  sick  in  hospitals.  Both  that  and  the 
discussion  following  connoted  a  vast  deal  of 
patient,  tactful,  merciful  labor  of  love  among  the 
sick  poor.  When  the  subject  of  the  next  meeting 
was  announced,  there  were  a  number  of  inquiries 
as  to  what  it  meant.  The  subject  was  Social  Set- 
tlements! It  was  finally  stated  that  the  real 
name  was  College  Settlement,  but  just  what  it 
was  only  one  minister  present  seemed  to  know. 
He  was  the  young  minister  of  the  old  Circular 
Church  —  a  Congregational  church  (the  only 
white  one  in  the  State)  founded  in  1690.  I  had 
a  conversation  with  this  Congregational  min- 
ister, who,  though  a  Southerner  by  birth,  was  a 
Westerner  by  training  —  his  speech  betrayed 
him  —  and  was  originally  a  Methodist.  He 
told  me  he  had  introduced  the  subject  for  the 
purpose  of  enlightening  his  brother  ministers. 


IN   THE   OLD   SOUTH  121 

(To  the  credit  of  those  same  brother  ministers, 
every  one  with  whom  I  spoke  was  pleased  to  be 
enHghtened,  and  seemed  to  take  fraternal  pride 
in  this  young  minister's  bustling  ways.)  I 
found  that  he  was  keenly  aware  of  the  social 
aspect  of  Christianity,  and  was  greatly  inter- 
ested in  workingmen,  and  was  proud  of  the 
fact  that  not  only  had  his  church  increased  in 
membership  in  spite  of  a  decrease  in  the  white 
population  of  the  city,  but  that  its  increase  had 
come  from  the  working  classes. 

"  Do  you  find  any  opposition  to  this  from  the 
people  of  old  families  in  your  church?  " 

"  Not  exactly  opposition.  But  one  day  after 
Communion,  when  some  of  the  common  people 
were  admitted  to  membership,  a  rich  lady  came 
up  to  me  and  said, '  But  remember,  it  is  quality 
we  want,  not  quantity.'  That  expresses  their 
attitude." 

Here  is  typified  one  of  the  new  religious 
tendencies  in  the  Old  South  —  to  accept, 
conservatively  and  with  some  remonstrance,  it 
may  be,  the  leadership  of  men  who,  though 
alien  in  training  and  in  sentiment,  are  genuine 
and  not  presumptuous.  The  surprisingly  recep- 
tive and  adaptable  spirit  of  most  of  the  South- 
erners  I   met  helped    to   explain    to   me    the 


122  NEW  TENDENCIES 

tremendous  recuperation  of  the  South,  both 
commercial  and  educational,  since  the  war,  and 
made  deeply  significant  of  possible  results  such 
occasional  presentations  of  the  "  social  gospel" 
as  were  given  by  this  enthusiastic  minister  from 
the  West. 

A  second  religious  tendency  in  the  South  is 
to  expermient  within  the  safe  limits  of  evangeli- 
cal theology  with  extraordinary  religious  ideas. 
An  illustration  of  this  occurred  to  me  while  I 
was  in  Charleston.  It  was  at  a  meeting  of  peo- 
ple of  various  denominations  interested  in 
"■  Anglo-Israelism  "  —  the  theory  that  the  so- 
called  "  lost  ten  tribes  "  of  Israel  are  perpetu- 
ated in  the  Anglo-Saxon  peoples.  On  the 
previous  Sunday  in  a  church  I  had  heard  a  ser- 
mon in  which  this  theory  was  incidentally  advo- 
cated. This  evening  the  address  was  by  a  clergy- 
man of  a  different  denomination.  The  hall  w  as 
small,  the  audience  was  smaller.  The  voice  of 
the  speaker,  however,  was  suited  not  to  the  size 
of  the  auditorium  so  much  as  to  his  conception 
of  the  bigness  of  his  subject,  and  that  was  very 
big  indeed.  He  started  by  saying  that  the 
identity  between  the  Saxon  tribes  and  lost 
Israel  was  indisputable,  and  that  we  should  lay 
aside  preconceived  ideas,  for  in  a  progressive 


IN   THE   OLD   SOUTH  123 

age  it  was  unfortunate  to  be  so  conservative  as 
to  avoid  this  conclusion!  Then,  taking  Abra- 
ham, his  servant,  and  his  son  as  types  of  the 
Father,  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  Christ,  he  con- 
cluded that  Christ  must  take  his  Bride  the 
Church  from  his  own  kin,  that  is,  some  tribes 
of  the  Hebrew  people — "  otherwise  these  types 
cannot  be  preserved  "  I  Promises  thus  given  to 
Israel  must  be  fulfilled  by  Israel;  they  are 
being  fulfilled  by  the  English-speaking  people: 
therefore  the  English-speaking  people  are 
Israel.  We  are  consequently  the  elect,  the 
conquering  race.  Patriotism  and  religion  are 
identical ;  supremacy  of  the  race  must  be  main- 
tained ;  Queen  Victoria  and  President  McKin- 
ley  are  leaders  of  God's  elect;  all  our  history, 
all  our  life,  is  sacred.  Before  he  closed  he  de- 
clared: "  The  very  belief  that  Christ  died  for 
me  is  not  more  buoyant  and  vitalizing  than  this 
assurance  that  I  am  one  of  God's  elect."  Ob- 
viously absurd  as  this  doctrine  is,  it  is  more 
reasonable  than  the  notions  that  have  served  to 
sustain  some  new  sects  in  the  I^orth  and  the 
West,  and  has  evidently  proved  more  efficacious 
than  other  and  perhaps  sounder  beliefs  in  lead- 
ing some  people  to  waken  to  certain  moral  and 
spiritual  truths  of  which  before  they  had  been 


124  NEW   TENDENCIES 

wholly  unaware.  There  are,  moreover,  three 
things  in  particular  that  ought  to  be  said  about 
this  before  it  is  judged  unworthy  of  much  con- 
sideration. The  first  is  that  although  the 
number  of  Anglo-Israelites  seemed  small,  the 
serious  and  judicial  consideration  their  theory 
received  from  the  few  clergymen  and  the  one 
representative  layman  with  whom  I  had  the 
opportunity  of  referring  to  the  subject  was 
impressive.  (One  minister,  however,  told  me 
that  he  "  preferred  to  take  his  Higher  Criticism 
straight.")  The  second  is  that  this  is  onh^  one 
of  a  number  of  such  movements,  among  which 
I  had  occasion  more  than  once  to  note  the 
"  Holiness  "  doctrine  as  important.  The  third 
is  that,  like  the  "  Holiness  "  doctrine,  this  theory 
of  Anglo-Israelism  arouses  in  many  minds, 
accustomed  to  the  idea  that  religion  has  almost 
exclusively  to  do  with  an  intangible  soul  and  a 
future  heaven,  the  dormant  sense  of  the  sacred- 
ness  of  this  present  life;  and,  besides,  shifts 
the  object  of  their  religious  loyalty  (at  least  on 
the  human  side)  away  from  the  narrow  sphere 
of  the  denomination  to  the  broader  one  of  the 
race. 

The  two  religious  tendencies   of  the  South 
which  I  have  mentioned — the  one  to  accept  new 


IN   THE  OLD   SOUTH  125 

leadership  provided  it  is  genuine,  enthusiastic, 
and  not  presumptuous,  the  other  to  experiment 
within  the  confines  of  formal  orthodoxy  with 
novel,  sometimes  fantastic,  and  even  preposter- 
ous religious  theories  and  inventions  —  are  both 
pronounced  and  extensive.  Another  religious 
tendency  in  the  South,  the  third  and  last  that  I 
shall  mention,  is  that  away  from  a  mechanical 
toward  a  vital  theology  on  the  one  hand,  and  on 
the  other  hand  away  from  a  purely  individual- 
istic toward  a  social  Christian  activity  on  the 
part  of  Southern  religious  leaders  themselves. 
This  I  regard  as  the  most  important  and  wide- 
spread of  these  tendencies.  To  my  experiences 
which  illustrate  this  tendency  I  shall  devote  the 
remainder  of  this  chapter. 

An  acknowledged  leader  in  education  in  the 
South  gave  me  very  frankly  his  opinion  that 
Southern  men  of  influence  do  not  dare  to  express 
their  thoughts  as  against  the  predominating 
dogmatic  beliefs,  not  because  they  are  unheroic, 
but  because  they  know  it  would  be  useless. 
But  gradually,  for  instance  through  the  libraries 
into  which  books  of  the  modern  sort  are  intro- 
duced without  protest,  there  is  increasing  an 
undercurrent  of  thought  that  is  sweeping  past 
the  old  dogmas.     The  stage  of  development  at 


126  NEW  TENDENCIES 

present  he  described  as  that  of  the  separation 
between  theory  and  practice.  When  I  asked 
him  as  to  the  soundness  of  the  hopeful  spirit  of 
the  South,  he  was  inchned  to  be  dubious.  "  It 
is  not  based  on  the  historic  sense;  that  is  wholly 
lacking.  People  here  [mentioning  his  own 
State]  are  not  like  those  of  Virginia  or  the 
North;  they  are  gi'eat  fighters,  but  they  don't 
know  how  to  retreat;  when  they  have  to  give 
up  they  are  in  rout.  I  find  evidence  of  this 
among  the  young  men  in  college.  When  they 
fail,  they  don't  try  for  a  new  opening,  but  go 
home.  That  is  why  I  believe  that  when  the  South 
wakes  up  to  the  new  thought  it  will  have  to  go 
through  the  stage  of  superficial  infidelity." 

Partly  in  confirmation  of  this  opinion  and 
partly  to  indicate  the  influences  at  work  in  the 
South  which,  if  triumphant,  will  make  the  stage 
of  superficial  infidelity  unnecessary,  I  quote  in 
part  a  conversation  with  the  pastor  of  a  prom- 
inent Baptist  church  of  Charleston. 

"  We  are  starting  a  church  library,"  he  told 
me,  "containing  not  only  Sunday-school  but 
also  general  reference  books,  and  religious 
books  for  use  in  studying  the  Bible  and  other 
religious  topics.  In  this  library  are  included 
many  books  that  are  not  sound  from  the  Baptist 
point  of  view.     Such    a   book  went   into    one 


IN   THE   OLD   SOUTH  127 

man's  family.  He  read  it  and  disapproved; 
but,  instead  of  making  a  disturbance,  he  sent  his 
check  for  twenty-five  dollars  and  bought  the 
set  to  which  the  volume  belonged  (the  set  was 
worth  about  ten  dollars),  simply  to  remove 
them  from  the  library.  But  even  such  conser- 
vatism is  disappearing.  Another  distinction  of 
this  church  is  that  there  is  somewhat  more  than 
the  usual  proportion  of  men." 

"  How  do  you  account  for  that?  " 
"  In  the  first  place,  the  church  is  centrally 
located.  In  the  second  place,  the  pastors  have 
always  been  accustomed  to  deal  with  current 
topics  fearlessly  when  there  was  an  unmistak- 
able religious  phase  to  them.  The  church  has 
grown  sixty  per  cent,  in  the  ten  years  in  which 
the  city  has  lost  five  thousand  in  white  popula- 
tion." 

When  it  is  remembered  that  it  is  difiicult  to 
speak  of  any  current  topic  in  the  South  without 
becoming   involved   in   the  race  question,^  to 

1  Unquestionably  the  existence  of  the  race  question  in  the  South  has  had 
a  great  deal  to  do  in  inducing  the  churches  there  to  avoid  the  ethical  and 
social  aspects  of  Christianity,  and  to  lay  chief  emphasis  upon  its  doctrinal 
and  theological  amplifications.  Under  such  conditions  it  is  only  natural 
that  ministers  who  find  a  "simple  Gospel  "  (as  they  call  the  most  abstruse 
speculations  about  the  Gospel  which  do  not  happen  to  touch  by  any  chance 
upon  practical  life)  a  much  easier  and  safer  subject  to  preach  about  than 
"morality"  or  "sociology"  (as  they  call  all  treatment  to-day  of  men's  re- 
lations to  one  another,  no  matter  how  Christlike  the  motive  or  spirit)  are 
quite  emphatic  in  declaring  that  the  Church  should  not  concern  itself  with 
anything  but  the  "  plan  of  salvation." 


128  NEW   TENDENCIES 

which  the  Southern  mind  is  of  course  extremely 
sensitive,  this  statement  as  to  the  character  of  the 
preaching  and  the  growth  of  the  church  has  spe- 
cial significance.  Here  was  exemplified,  in  a  city 
church,  the  blending  of  two  phases  of  the  most 
important  tendency  I  noted  in  the  South — to- 
ward a  larger  liberty  of  thinking  and  a  greater 
emphasis  on  the  Gospel  in  relation  to  the  social 
life.  How  this  tendency  is  affecting  the  Church 
in  the  small  towns  and  the  country  regions  of 
the  South  I  had  a  good  opportunity  of  observ- 
ing in  a  trip  I  took  with  a  Methodist  presiding 
elder. 

My  companion  was  a  man  of  stocky  build 
and  of  a  countenance  that  at  once  invited  con- 
fidence. Before  the  train  was  well  under  way 
he  was  telling  me  stories  of  his  experiences, 
mingled  with  most  cheerful  tales  of  negroes 
and  accounts  of  the  places  through  which  we 
were  passing.  I  found  him  to  be  a  man  of  very 
open  mind.  Though  there  was  no  touch  of 
radicalism  in  his  thought,  he  was  not  unac- 
quainted or  unsympathetic  with  the  modern 
movements  in  theology.  In  the  midst  of  his 
breezy  stories  there  was  an  occasional  sugges- 
tion, all  the  more  emphatic  because  entirely 
unconscious,  of   a  most  spontaneous  spirit  of 


IN   THE   OLD   SOUTH  129 

Christian  self-sacrifice.  I  was  glad  to  see  that 
a  man  of  such  personality  had  been  chosen  by 
the  Methodist  Church  South  to  be  a  presiding 
elder,  a  teacher  of  teachers,  a  preacher  to 
preachers.  Because  I  have  not  hesitated  to 
record  some  observations  of  ministerial  self- 
interest  and  ambition,  I  want  to  emphasize  the 
unselfishness  and  the  serene  indifference  to 
anything  like  personal  advancement  which  I 
found  so  apparent  in  this  man  of  influence  in 
the  Methodist  Church.  His  attitude  of  amused 
contempt  for  the  ecclesiastical  place-hunter  he 
expressed  a  day  or  so  later  when,  as  we  alighted 
from  a  carriage,  I  took  up  his  valise.  "It  is 
entirely  too  early  to  do  that  sort  of  thing,"  he 
said,  jokingly,  "  even  if  you  do  want  a  transfer 
from  Maine  to  South  Carohna;  ministers  don't 
treat  the  presiding  elder  in  that  fashion  until 
about  Conference  time,  when  the  new  appoint- 
ments are  to  be  made.  Until  then  the  presid- 
ing elders  all  carry  their  own  valises." 

His  appreciation  of  the  sociological  aspect  of 
church  work  may  be  suggested  by  an  incident 
he  related.  Part  of  his  district  includes  the 
mill  region.  He  chose  two  of  the  most  active 
and  promising  young  men  under  his  charge  to 
work  there  among  the  operatives.     The  editor 


130  NEW  TENDENCIES 

of  a  religious  paper  remonstrated  with  him. 
"  What  do  you  mean,"  he  asked,  "  by  putting 
such  men  as  those  doion  there  ?  "  "  I  want  just 
such  men  as  those  to  study  the  question  of 
industrial  conditions."  In  spite  of  the  editor's 
remark,  "  It  will  never  do;  they  won't  stay,"  it 
did  do  and  they  stayed. 

"We  got  off  the  train  at  a  small  factory  town, 
and  were  welcomed  by  the  Methodist  minister 
and  the  superintendent  of  the  mills.  We  were 
made  the  minister's  guests.  Although  he  was 
a  Southerner  born  and  bred,  he  had  something 
of  the  Western  eagerness  for  self-development 
and  I^orthern  readiness  "  either  to  tell  or  to 
hear  some  new  thing."  As  we  sat  before  the 
open  fire  he  turned  the  conversation  irresistibly 
to  modern  religious  books.  The  fact  that  I  was 
from  the  ^orth  aroused  all  his  appetite  for 
information;  and  instead  of  my  questioning 
him  I  found  myself  put  to  it  to  answer  his 
questions  as  to  the  most  recent  books  on  such 
subjects  as  the  Hebrew  Prophets,  Christianity 
and  Sociology,  Evolution,  and  the  "  New  The- 
ology." It  came  out  in  the  course  of  the 
evening  that,  in  lieu  of  having  at  hand  popular 
works  on  the  subject  of  evolution  and  reUgion, 


IN  THE  OLD  SOUTH  131 

he  had  turned  to  and  written  and  published  a 
book  on  the  subject  himself. 

At  the  meeting  in  the  church  that  evening 
the  small  audience  comprised  twice  as  many 
men  as  women.  This  was  partly  explained  by 
the  fact  that  a  Ladies'  Bible  Class  was  in  ses- 
sion at  the  same  time.  The  service,  conducted 
by  my  hospitable  guide,  was  not  extraordinary 
in  any  way;  it  was  simply  helpful.  The  church, 
I  was  told,  was  made  up  largely  of  mill  opera- 
tives. The  superintendent  of  the  mill,  a  IS^orth- 
ern  man  now  a  thorough  and  enthusiastic 
convert  to  the  South,  a  man  too  of  whose  help- 
ful, unostentatious  friendship  for  the  poor  and 
friendless  I  heard  many  accounts,  contributed 
to  the  democratic  atmosphere  of  the  church, 
and,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  did  not  assume  to  be 
even  primus  inter  pares. 

The  next  day  the  presiding  elder  and  I  drove 
in  a  buggy  through  three  mill  districts,  past  a 
ramshackle  little  group  of  houses  occupied 
by  negroes,  which  boasted  of  two  churches, 
one  of  which  bore  on  its  steeple  the  only  sign 
of  paint  I  saw  in  the  whole  settlement,  then 
over  a  dull,  dreary  stretch  of  land  where  negroes 
were  plowing  with  mules,  until  we  reached  a 


132  NEW  TENDENCIES 

little  meeting-house  under  the  edge  of  the 
"  piny  woods."  That  we  were  half  an  hour 
late  seemed  to  disturb  none  of  the  dozen  or  fif- 
teen that  were  assembled.  At  the  service,  which 
was  not  quarterly  meeting  as  expected  because 
of  the  absence  of  certain  laymen,  the  presiding 
elder  again  spoke  simply  but  without  the  sign 
of  intellectual  alertness  that  sparkled  in  his  con- 
versation. At  the  close  of  service  we  were 
made  the  guests  of  a  clergyman,  formerly  a 
Methodist  preacher  but  now  superannuated  on 
account  of  nervous  ill  health.  Another  guest 
was  the  local  preacher  in  charge  of  this  and  one 
or  two  other  churches.  He  took  me  for  a  drive 
about  the  country  in  the  afternoon.  He  proved 
to  be  open-minded,  like  his  ecclesiastical  supe- 
riors, and  well  aware  of  the  problems  presented 
by  the  gradually  decreasing  population,  though 
by  no  means  certain  as  to  the  solution  of  them. 
As  we  talked  over  the  subject  of  his  sermon  for 
the  morrow,  on  the  text  "  Behold  the  Lamb  of 
God !  "  he  responded  eagerly  to  the  conclusion 
which  was  developed  in  the  course  of  our  con- 
versation, that  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  was  the 
consequence  not  of  an  arbitrary  fiat  but  of  a 
universal  law  which  thi'oughout  all  life  makes 
the  redeemer  the  chief  sufferer  in  the  process  of 


IN   THE   OLD   SOUTH  133 

redemption.  Our  host,  though  exhausted  by  a 
fight  with  a  forest  fire  which  he  had  kept  a 
secret  from  us  until  he  had  gotten  it  under  con- 
trol, was  not  only  as  suave  and  delightful  as  he 
would  have  been  under  circumstances  of  ease 
and  leisure,  but,  like  the  others  of  this  exceed- 
ingly interesting  group  of  ministers,  most  broad 
in  his  intellectual  sympathies. 

The  next  day,  Sunday,  I  went  with  the  family 
to  the  services.  During  Sunday-school  I  pur- 
posely remained  outside  to  get  a  chance  to  talk 
with  the  farmers.  I  am  afraid  I  kept  them 
from  the  session  of  the  school,  and  for  recom- 
pense I  found  little  to  enlighten  me  on  their 
view  of  religious  conditions.  One  of  the  re- 
plies I  received  is,  however,  worth  recording. 
We  had  been  discussing  the  condition  of  the 
outward  observance  of  religion  in  that  country 
community.  Remembering  the  frequency  with 
which  I  had  noticed  in  the  rural  town  in  Maine 
where  I  live  the  farmers  getting  in  their  hay  or 
hauling  the  corn  to  the  canning-factory  on  Sun- 
day, I  inquired  whether  men  there  in  South 
Carolina  worked  on  Sunday  more  now  than 
formerly.  One  of  the  men  who  had  spoken  dis- 
couragingly  of  the  regard  for  Sunday  looked  up 
surprised  at  my  question  and  rather  puzzled,  and 


134  NEW    TENDENCIES 

replied,  "  No  one  ever  does  farm  work  on  Sun- 
day; people  here  are  careless,  but  they  are  not 
sacrilegious." 

The  quarterly  meeting  followed  the  morning 
service.  In  the  administration  of  the  Communion 
at  the  close  of  this  meeting,  I,  though  not  a 
Methodist,  was  asked  to  participate.  Then, 
after  a  necessarily  hurried  luncheon,  we  drove 
back  to  the  factory  town,  where  quarterly  meet- 
ing again  was  held.  At  each  occasion  the 
presiding  elder  made  an  address  similar  in 
spirit  to  the  preceding  addresses.  One  might 
attend  church  services  in  the  South  for  a  con- 
siderable period  without  discovering  any  intel- 
lectual spontaneity — either  of  origination  or  of 
receptivity  —  among  the  ministers ;  but  one 
could  scarcely  fail  to  see  signs  of  such  intel- 
lectual spontaneity  in  almost  any  minister 
through  personal  conversation.  This,  at  least, 
was  indicated  not  only  by  my  experience  on 
the  occasion  I  have  just  described,  but  also 
throughout  m}^  whole  Southern  trip.  What- 
ever ferment  may  be  occasioned  by  the  leaven 
of  modern  theological  thought  and  social  con- 
sciousness in  the  church  life  of  the  South  is 
beneath  the  surface.  Probably  on  that  very 
account  it  is  more  widespread,  and  as  a  result, 


IN   THE  OLD  SOUTH  135 

possibly,  the  country  churches  of  the  South  will 
not  be  the  last  to  be  affected  by  larger  religious 
conceptions. 

In  a  previous  chapter  I  have  already  referred 
to  the  heroic  and  successful  work  of  Mr. 
George  Williams  Walker,  a  thorough  South- 
erner, in  carrying  on,  in  Augusta,  Georgia,  a 
Southern  Methodist  institute  for  negroes.  I 
cannot  close  this  chapter  on  new  rehgious  ten- 
dencies, intellectual  and  social,  without  referring 
to  another  heroic  work  done  in  the  same  city. 
When  I  was  told  of  the  work  being  done  by 
the  clergyman  of  an  Episcopal  church  in  the 
mill  district,  I  called  upon  him  at  his  house. 
He  cordially  assented  to  my  suggestion  that  I 
accompany  him  on  his  pastoral  calls.  In  ac- 
cordance with  this  plan  we  started  out  on 
bicycles  for  a  tour  of  the  district.  There  are 
a  number  of  cotton-mills  along  the  canal  just 
outside  of  the  city  limits.  The  houses  of  the 
employees  form  a  settlement  on  the  low  land 
bordering  this  canal.  The  first  house  we  en- 
tered (consisting  of  two  rooms  and  a  kitchen) 
was  occupied  by  a  widow  and  her  eight  chil- 
dren. The  family  was  supported  by  the  earn- 
ings of  the  three  oldest  daughters,  which 
amounted  to  about  fifty  cents  apiece  each  day 


136  NEW  TENDENCIES 

they  could  work.  In  this  single  household 
during  the  past  winter  there  had  been  several 
cases  of  chickenpox  and  of  measles,  at  least 
one  case  of  malarial  fever,  nine  cases  of  grippe, 
and  three  cases  of  typhoid  fever,  due  chiefly  to 
the  unsanitary  environment  of  the  company's 
house  which  they  had  occupied.  The  clergy- 
man took  from  his  medicine-case,  which  he  told 
me  he  always  carried  with  him,  some  mild 
remedy  for  one  of  the  little  girls  who  was  still 
sick.  The  woman  at  whose  house  we  next 
stopped  was  in  more  comfortable  circumstances 
than  most  of  her  neighbors,  for  her  husband 
was  a  policeman.  She  was  a  woman  of  evi- 
dent intelligence  and  force  of  character,  though 
she  could  neither  read  nor  write.  So  from 
house  to  house  we  went;  sickness,  destitution, 
misery,  were  not  the  exception,  but  the  rule; 
the  wretchedness  of  congested  population  was 
combined  with  the  desolation  of  illiteracy  and 
vacant  minds.  To  the  other  sources  of  woe 
was  added  the  prevaihng  custom  of  the  em- 
ployment of  children.  How  young?  "Oh,  I 
don't  know,"  was  one  pitiful  answer ;  "  power- 
ful little  bits  of  children."  In  one  household 
we  visited  a  little  boy  had  recently  died.  He 
had  not  lived  to  be  ten  years  old,  and  he  had 


IN  THE   OLD  SOUTH  137 

worked  in  the  factory  ever  since  he  had  come 
from  the  country,  a  year  and  a  half  before. 
Most  of  the  families  were  from  the  country — 
mainly  from  "  Car'lina."  The  reasons  given 
for  leaving  their  rural  homes  were  widely 
various:  "  because  we  lost  our 'plantation' "; 
"  because  my  wife  was  lonely  " ;  "  because  the 
darkies  came  in."  Various,  too,  was  the  testi- 
mony as  to  the  result:  some  declared  they  had 
improved  their  conditions ;  others  that  they  had 
ruined  what  good  fortune  they  had  had.  At 
the  best  they  were  hopeless.  Most  of  them 
confessed  that  they  had  abandoned  the  church- 
going  habits  of  theii*  country  life.  Being 
Protestants,  their  illiteracy  made  the  personal 
devotional  life  among  them  difficult  and  rare, 
since  they  had  recourse  to  neither  priest  nor 
book.  Out  of  this  population  of  "poor  white" 
mill  hands  this  clergyman  had  built  up  a  church, 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  they  were  naturally 
non-Episcopalian.  In  addition  he  was  enabled 
to  raise  money  to  build  a  parish  house,  which 
at  the  time  of  my  visit  was  to  contain  a  small 
assembly-room  for  lectures  and  entertainments, 
a  library,  a  reading-room,  and  a  room  for  a 
caretaker.  He  put  special  value  upon  the  pro- 
posed lectures  and  entertainments,  because  they 


138  NEW    TENDENCIES 

would  provide  for  the  great  proportion  of  the 
population  a  source  of  relaxation  and  instruc- 
tion which,  because  of  their  illiteracy,  they  could 
not  get  through  books  or  periodicals.  Besides 
this  he  had  raised  during  the  past  year  a  sum 
equal  to  his  own  salary  to  be  used  in  relief  of 
distress.  One  novel  method  he  used  in  raising 
this  sum  consisted  in  providing  a  special  train 
to  run  out  of  the  city  to  a  point  where  an 
eclipse  of  the  sun  could  be  easily  viewed.  By 
making  arrangements  with  the  railroad  com- 
pany, he  managed  to  clear  a  considerable  profit. 
This  charitable  fund  he  so  expended  that  it 
became  a  strong  influence  for  the  independence 
of  the  beneficiaries.  In  some  instances  it  was 
used  as  loans ;  in  most  other  cases  for  purchase 
of  supplies.  As  a  consequence  every  family 
that  was  helped  received  aid  in  a  constantly 
diminishing  quantity. 

As  a  slight  digression,  I  quote  here  what  was 
more  than  once  told  me,  not  only  in  Georgia, 
but  also  in  South  Carolina  (especially  in  Charles- 
ton), that  the  reason  the  Episcopalian  clerg}^- 
men  in  the  South  do  not  cooperate  with  other 
ministers  is  not  on  High  Church  grounds  (for 
the  Episcopal  Church  is  predominantly  Low 
Church  in  the  South),  but  because  of  social  dis- 


IN  THE  OLD  SOUTH  139 

tinctions.  This  makes  apposite  a  story  that  was 
told  me  of  a  lady  newly  come  to  live  in  a  city 
of  Virginia.  She  was  asked  what  church  she 
attended.  "  Oh,"  she  replied,  "  in  doctrine  I'm 
a  Presbyterian,  but  socially  I'm  an  Episcopa- 
lian." From  this  feeling,  of  course,  the  minis- 
ter whose  work  I  am  describing  would  suffer 
only  indirectly. 

It  was  not  from  this  clergyman  that  I  learned 
that  he  had  practically  no  real  assistance  from 
the  strong  churches  of  the  city  —  apart  from 
financial  contributions.  That  I  learned  from 
other  sources;  and  it  was  corroborated  by  the 
clergyman  himself,  only  reluctantly,  and  with 
explanations  that  did  credit  to  his  charitableness. 
At  the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  I 
was  told  that  in  an  address  before  the  Associa- 
tion he  had  spoken  on  labor  questions,  and  had 
thus  not  found  favor  with  some  of  the  "con- 
servative people  of  Augusta."  That  he  had 
found  favor  with  some  other  people,  whose 
favor  I  should  value  more  highly,  I  surmised 
by  the  cordial  and  admiring  response  the  men- 
tion of  his  name  called  forth  as  I  was  chatting 
with  a  street-car  conductor. 

This  may  seem  to  be  a  gloomy  picture.  One 
side   of  it  is;  but  not  the   other  side,  which 


140     NEW   TENDENCIES   IN   THE   SOUTH 

shows  a  man  of  fine  fiber,  both  in  mind  and 
taste,  single-handed  bringing  to  a  forlorn  and 
destitute  people,  stricken  with  ignorance  and 
disease,  the  gospel  not  only  of  words  but  of 
deed,  the  good  news  of  health,  knowledge,  com- 
fort, recreation,  comradeship.  If  that  is  gloomy, 
so  is  the  Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan. 


NEW  ORLEAIS^S 


VI 

KEW  OELEAKS 

THERE  is  a  game — the  psychologists  call  it 
an  experiment  —  which  may  be  named  for 
short  Redintegration.  The  psychologist  calls 
out  a  word  and  you  reply  with  another  word 
expressing  a  related  idea,  and,  lo !  the  "  struc- 
ture of  your  soul "  is  revealed.  Suppose  the 
word  is  "  subject."  If  you  answer  "  cadaver," 
you  are  proved  to  be  a  medical  student;  if 
"  predicate,"  then  you  are  certainly  a  student  or 
teacher  of  grammar;  but  if  "text,"  then  you 
are  without  doubt  a  minister.  In  the  same  way, 
if  "  ^ew  Orleans  "  be  suggested,  the  New  Eng- 
land housewife  will  think  "molasses";  the 
Grand  Army  veteran  will  think  "  Butler  " ;  per- 
haps somebody  inclined  to  the  legendary  will 
be  naive  enough  to  say  "  spoons ! "  But  most  of 
us  will  be  apt  to  think  "  Creole."     So  at  least  it 

143 


144  NEW   ORLEANS 

was  with  me.  As  soon  as  I  decided  to  go  to 
New  Orleans  it  was  the  old  French  Catholic 
atmosphere  that  I  expected  to  breathe.  That  is 
why,  as  soon  as  I  reached  the  city,  I  started  off 
toward  the  French  quarter  across  Canal  Street. 
The  width  of  this  great  dividing  street,  with  its 
broad  strip  in  the  center  reserved  for  the  sev- 
eral electric  car  tracks,  accentuated  the  lowness 
of  the  buildings  on  either  hand.  Growing  by 
the  side  of  these  tracks  was  a  four-leafed  clover, 
which  I  picked  and  sent  to  my  wife,  not  only  as 
a  sign  of  summer  in  the  time  when  snow  is 
deepest  in  Maine,  but  also  as  a  symbol  of  the 
leisureliness  of  Southern  life.  A  city  in  whose 
central  thoroughfare  a  four-leafed  clover  can 
flourish  must  be  characterized  by  a  repose  not 
distinctively  American.  And  again  I  said  to 
myself  "  Creole." 

A  narrower  street  in  the  French  quarter  soon 
led  me  between  two  high  walls.  I  turned  to  the 
left  and  went  through  a  gate.  I  found  myself 
in  what  seemed  to  be  a  miniature  city  of  brick, 
stucco,  and  marble.  Down  the  center  ran  a 
street,  grass-grown,  deserted.  The  buildings 
on  either  side  looked  like  dwarf  temples,  the 
highest  towering  several  feet  above  my  head. 
It  seemed  as  if  some  pygmean  race   had  here 


NEW   ORLEANS  145 

built  and  then  abandoned  a  sacred  city.  It  was 
the  old  St.  Louis  Cemetery.  The  temples  were 
tombs.  On  their  fronts  were  inscribed,  in  most 
cases  in  French,  the  names  of  the  dead.  Here 
and  there  hung  the  faded  remnants  of  wreaths 
and  bunches  of  flowers. 

Many  of  the  tombs,  so  the  inscriptions  indi- 
cated, were  built  and  maintained  by  associations 
formed  for  the  purpose  of  providing  entomb- 
ment for  their  members.  Here  certainly  was  a 
contrast  to  that  individualism  evident  among 
other  white  people  in  the  South.  In  this  sign  of 
the  social  instinct,  strong  even  in  death,  there 
was  a  reminder  once  more  of  that  insistent  word 
"  Creole." 

On  Sunday  morning  I  went  to  high  mass  at 
the  French  Cathedral  of  St.  Louis.  On  my  way 
there  I  noticed  tacked  on  the  trees  printed  slips 
of  paper  with  borders  in  black.  They  were 
announcements  —  with  few  exceptions  they 
were  in  French — of  the  death  of  various  indi- 
viduals. On  each  of  these  there  was  a  list  of 
families  whose  attention  was  called  to  that 
special  obituary  notice.  Pride  of  lineage,  the 
social  instinct,  and  religion  were  all  blended  on 
these  bits  of  paper. 

On  I  went  through  the  narrow  streets  where 


146  NEW   ORLEANS 

children  played  in  the  doorways  and  on  the 
pavement,  until  I  came  out  at  Jackson  Square. 
There  stood  the  old  Cathedral  looking  out  to- 
ward the  levees.  I  entered,  and  at  the  entrance 
to  the  gallery  paid  five  cents  to  the  doorkeeper. 
I  found  that  I  was  on  the  side  over  the  pulpit. 
So  I  descended,  crossed  over,  paid  another  coin, 
and  entered  the  gallery  on  the  other  side.  To 
a  non-Catholic,  service  in  every  Catholic  church 
seems  much  the  same.  In  each  there  is  the  same 
atmosphere  of  sanctity  and  mystery;  the  same 
unstudied  reverence  in  the  worshipers,  that 
makes  the  Puritan  wonder  at  the  stiffness  of 
his  own  knees;  the  same  vestments  and  lights 
that  somehow  seem  regal  and  courtly,  as  well 
as  religious  and  almost  histrionic ;  the  same  in- 
definable influence  —  is  it  of  the  music?  —  that 
makes  religion  seem  not  something  merely  in- 
tellectual, as  does  the  ultra-Protestant  "  meet- 
ing," nor  something  celestially  pure,  as  does  the 
Anglican  liturgy,  but  something  intensely  hu- 
man, terrestrial,  dramatic;  the  same  wail  in  the 
Kyrie  Eleison;  the  same  militant  confidence 
in  the  Credo ;  the  same  sudden,  awesome,  shud- 
dering silence  at  the  sound  of  the  bell;  the 
same  sudden  awakening  to  the  normal  health- 
fulness  and  buoyancy  of  life  upon  egress  to  the 


NEW   ORLEANS  147 

open  air  and  sunlight.  Perhaps  in  this  uni- 
formity of  service  lies  one  of  the  secrets  of  the 
power  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church;  for  it 
seems  as  if  the  Catholic  worshipers,  especially 
in  this  land  where  education,  politics,  and  even 
languages  and  races  are  in  constant  flux  and 
conflict,  must  be  impressed  everywhere  with 
the  unity  of  his  unaltered  and,  outwardly  at 
least,  unalterable  Church.  It  was  impossible 
for  me  at  least  to  differentiate  the  religious 
characteristics  of  the  Catholic  services  of  such 
widely  differing  cities,  for  instance,  as  Balti- 
more, IS^ew  Orleans,  and  Little  Rock.  The 
one  contrast,  of  course  —  and  that  chiefly  an 
external  one  —  was  in  the  language  used  for 
the  gospel,  epistle,  and  sermon,  which  in  Kew 
Orleans  was  French.  There  was,  however,  a 
difference  in  congregations.  In  Baltimore  the 
people  at  the  service  showed  by  their  clothes 
and  carriage  that  they  were,  most  of  them, 
wealthy;  in  Little  Rock  they  were  distinctly 
from  the  humbler  ranks  —  most  of  them  might 
have  been  servants.  Here  in  the  Cathedral  at 
'New  Orleans  the  congregation  seemed  much 
less  homogeneous.  In  an  obscure  gallery  near 
the  altar  were  a  number  of  nuns.  In  the  body 
of  the  church  the  people  seemed  to  represent 


148  NEW   ORLEANS 

a  variety  of  the  grades  of  life.  There  was, 
however,  no  display  of  wealth.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  was  an  indefinable  trace  of  aris- 
tocracy in  the  faces  and  bearing  of  some  of 
the  people.  Many  of  the  women  wore  deep 
mourning.  A  number  of  negroes  were  present, 
seated  on  benches  along  the  walls.  A  man  in 
some  sort  of  uniform  with  epaulets  was  moving 
about  the  church  showing  people  to  their  seats 
and  inspiring  the  doorkeepers  with  zeal  for 
keeping  people  quiet;  he  was  apparently  the 
verger.  When  the  sermon  was  about  to  be- 
gin, many  negroes  on  the  side  aisle  pressed 
up  near  the  pulpit.  One  old  lame  black  man 
hobbled  forward  with  the  rest  and  stood  through- 
out the  sermon,  leaning  on  his  cane  and  looking 
intently  up  into  the  preacher's  face.  When  the 
sermon  was  finished,  they  all  returned  to  their 
places  for  the  rest  of  the  service. 

As  the  congregation  passed  out  I  went  to 
find  Pere  Mignot,  to  whom  I  had  a  letter  of  in- 
troduction. Up  the  narrow  little  alley  beside 
the  cathedral  I  went,  and  knocked  at  the  door  to 
which  I  was  directed.  I  found  him  very  busy. 
He  was  short  and  stout  —  the  cassock  he  wore 
extended  to  his  feet;  a  beard,  such  as  the  mem- 
bers of  his  order  are  entitled  to  wear,  long  and 


NEW   ORLEANS  149 

gray,  gave  to  his  round,  happy  face  a  quality  of 
f  atherhness ;  and  his  eyes  had  a  benignant  light 
that  invited  confidence.  When,  a  few  days 
later,  I  called  on  him  again,  he  was  freer  to 
talk  and  walk  with  me.  He  took  me  upstairs 
to  where  hung  the  valued  portraits  of  the  first 
Bishop,  and  the  first  Pastor,  and  the  Founder 
of  the  Parish  of  !New  Orleans.  Pere  Mignot's 
ecclesiastical  dress  seemed  to  link  him  in  time 
with  these  dignitaries  of  the  past,  and  his 
French,  which  he  exchanged  for  broken  English 
as  he  talked  with  me,  seemed  to  place  him  in 
the  Old  World.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  crudely 
modern  —  out  of  place  and  time.  He  said  he 
would  show  me  the  Convent  of  the  Holy  Family, 
a  convent  for  colored  nuns.  We  had  been  talk- 
ing about  the  French  and  Spanish  negro  Catho- 
lics, and  as  we  went  along  he  told  me  that  some 
of  these  were  leaving  the  Catholic  Church. 
"They  find  the  Church  too  strict,"  he  said, 
"  and  they  go  off  to  the  Baptists  and  others 
where  they  can  dance  and  shout.  Some  of 
them  leave  because  they  are  sensitive  about 
being  with  white  people  in  church,  and  they  be- 
come Protestant  so  they  can  go  to  a  church 
where  all  are  of  one  color." 

I  asked  him  if  the  Catholic  Church  in  New 


150  NEW   ORLEANS 

Orleans  was  giving  the  negroes  industrial  train- 
ing in  the  schools  —  and  explained  what  I 
meant  by  referring  to  Booker  Washington. 
Pere  Mignot  had  not  heard  about  Booker  Wash- 
ington. It  was  evident  that,  beyond  the  usual 
instruction  in  sewing  and  cooking,  and  some 
minor  occupations  like  the  putting  together  of 
artificial  flowers,  as  later  I  observed,  he  knew  of 
no  industrial  education  in  the  Catholic  schools. 
At  the  Convent  of  the  Holy  Family,  which 
Pere  Mignot  told  me  was  first  established  over 
fifty  years  ago  for  free  negroes,  the  placid  faces 
of  the  colored  nuns  in  their  hoods  of  black  and 
white,  and  their  quiet,  mellifluous  voices,  were 
like  a  benediction.  The  next  day  Pere  Mignot 
accompanied  me  to  the  school  taught  by  the 
Sisters  of  the  Sacred  Heart.  I  expect  never  to 
be  confronted  with  a  stronger  argument  for 
parochial  schools  than  that  given  by  the  bright- 
ening faces  of  the  children  at  the  sight  of  his 
genial,  fatherly  presence,  their  eagerness  for  his 
blessing,  and  their  glad,  quiet,  ingenuous  de- 
voutness  as  they  knelt  to  receive  that  blessing 
before  his  departure.  I  felt  better  for  kneeling 
with  those  Creole  children  in  their  school-room. 
Of  very  different  type  was  a  3^oung  Creole 
priest  whom  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting.     I 


NEW   ORLEAKS  151 

first  saw  him  in  his  room  in  the  house  adjoining 
his  church.  He  might  well  have  sat,  or  rather 
stood,  for  a  portrait  of  Giuseppe  Caponsacchi; 
and  when  he  spoke,  his  seemed  to  be  "  the 
steadfast  eye  and  quiet  word  o'  the  Canon  of 
the  Pieve !  "  Only  it  was  not  in  Italian  but  in 
the  soft  legato  English  of  the  Creole  that  he 
spoke.  In  his  conversation,  as  in  his  face,  there 
glowed  the  devotional  mysticism  that  suggests 
Faber,  and  Thomas  a  Kempis,  and  Bernard  of 
Clairvaux.  He  asked  me  to  be  seated  near  where 
stood  a  prie-dieu  over  which  hung  a  crucifix. 

"  Some  Protestants  have  strange  ideas  of  the 
Catholic  religion,"  he  said  in  the  course  of  his 
conversation.  He  told  me  thereupon  that  once 
a  young  Protestant  woman  had  asked  him  how 
Catholics  defended  their  worship  of  the  Holy 
Virgin;  and  he  explained  that  they  did  not  wor- 
ship the  Mother  of  Jesus  as  they  worshiped 
God.  "  There  on  my  desk  stand  two  pictures : 
one  is  of  my  mother,"  he  said,  "  the  other  is  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin.  I  adore  my  mother  " —  he 
had  a  way  of  using  English  words  with  a 
French  significance  —  "  and  I  adore  the  Blessed 
Virgin.  I  can  go  to  my  mother  and  confide  in 
her  and  get  help;  so  I  believe  I  can  go  to  the 
Mother  of  Christ  and  get  help. 


152  NEW   ORLEANS 

"  Here  in  New  Orleans  "  —  I  cannot  quote 
his  exact  words  —  "there  are  three  old  Latin 
elements  among  the  population:  the  French, 
the  Spaniards,  and  the  Italians.  You  call  all 
Italians  '  Dagos ' ;  but  really  the  Dagos  are 
simply  the  Sicilians.  ^N^ow,  my  work  is  chiefly 
among  the  French." 

"  Are  they  good  Catholics?  "  I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered;  "but  with  them  religion 
is  very  much  a  matter  of  routine." 

With  somewhat  of  a  digression,  I  quoted 
what  some  Catholic  workingmen  had  said  to 
me. 

"  Catholic  workingmen  do  not  believe  all 
they  say  against  the  Church.  When  sickness 
comes,  or  death,  they  say  then  what  they  be- 
lieve; though  sometimes  a  man  on  his  death- 
bed, if  others  are  present,  will  say  to  the  priest 
that  he  will  see  him,  not  as  a  priest,  but  as  a 
friend.  One  priest,  who  was  pastor  for  thirty- 
six  years,  said  that  in  all  that  time  only  six  or 
seven  resisted  him  at  the  point  of  death." 

"What  happens  if  they  get  well?" 

"  Habitually  they  practice  religion.  But "  — ■ 
with  a  smile  —  "  they  go  off  fishing  Saturday 
nights  and  do  not  return  till  Monday,  and  they 
get  out  of  the  way  of  going  to  mass."     There 


NEW  ORLEANS  153 

was  a  tone  of  pity  in  his  voice  as  he  said  this ; 
as  if  he  sympathized  with  men  who  had  temp- 
tations to  which  he,  as  a  priest,  could  not 
by  circumstance  and  temperament  be  hable. 
"  Cathohcs,  especially  in  America,  have  a  great 
deal  of  reverence  for  the  Church  and  for  the 
priest.  A  priest  who  came  from  France  to 
visit  this  country  told  me  he  was  astounded  at 
the  respect,  indeed  friendship,  shown  to  priests 
by  the  people.  Even  in  ^N'ew  York  as  he 
walked  along  the  streets  many  people,  strangers, 
would  touch  their  hats  as  they  met  him.  So  in 
the  hotels  and  even  in  railroad  trains.  This 
would  not  be  so  in  France.  In  'New  Orleans  it 
is  even  more  than  this  —  it  is  friendliness.  In 
France,  and  among  the  old  French  people  here 
who  have  been  educated  in  France,  it  is  always 
^monsieur  Vahhe^''  but  among  the  Creoles  it  is 
always  'jpere.' 

"  In  the  religion  of  the  Creoles  there  is  some- 
thing more  than  this  reverence  for  the  Church. 
It  is  the  —  the  —  how  do  you  say  it?  —  respect 
liumain?'' 

"Deference  for  public  opinion?"  I  sug- 
gested. I  could  think  of  nothing  better  than 
this  clumsy  English  phrase. 

"  Something  like  that,"  he  said  hesitatingly. 


154  NEW   ORLEANS 

"You  hardly  know  what  it  is;  it  doesn't  exist 
so  much  among  the  English;  it  is  a  Latin 
trait.  A  great  deal  of  religion  among  the 
Creoles  is  due  to  that.  It  is  that  which  makes 
their  religion  seem  like  routine." 

I  think  I  know  what  he  meant:  the  sense  of 
honor,  as  Brownell  in  his  "  French  Traits " 
points  out — a  kind  of  conformity  to  the  en- 
lightened opinion  of  the  race,  substituted  for 
conscience  as  the  guide  of  conduct.  This,  it 
may  be  inferred,  saves  the  Creoles,  as  it  does  the 
French,  from  fanaticism  —  though  not  neces- 
sarily from  intolerance  —  for  the  fanatic  is  one 
who  tries  to  extend  the  sovereignty  of  his  con- 
science beyond  the  bounds  of  his  individual 
conduct,  its  rightful  domain,  to  the  conduct  of 
others.  On  the  other  hand,  even  the  fanatic  is 
not  always  free  from  subservience  to  popular 
opinion;  and  I  remarked  that  even  in  IS^ew 
England  this  respect  liumaln  sometimes  causes 
people  to  act  more  in  accordance  with  what 
other  people  think  than  in  accordance  with  what 
they  are  sure  is  right. 

"  It  is  too  much  that,"  said  the  ahhe^  simply. 

He  admitted  regretfully  that  the  Creoles  as 
a  distinctive  people  are  dying  out.  The  Creole 
children,  he  told  me,  were  mingling  with  chil- 


NEW  ORLEANS  155 

di^en  on  the  other  side  of  the  city;  they  were 
learning  a  smattering  of  English  and  losing 
some  of  theii'  French.  As  a  consequence,  he 
said,  there  were  some  young  people  who  really 
knew  no  language.  Whether  in  the  process 
they  were  losing  their  religion  he  did  not,  and 
I  suppose  could  not,  say. 

There  was  no  sign  of  religious  decadence, 
at  any  rate,  at  the  Benediction  of  the  Most 
Blessed  Sacrament,  which  I  attended  the  next 
evening.  It  is  true  it  was  in  Lent;  but  it  was  a 
Thursday  —  not  a  Sunday  —  evening.  I  arrived 
some  tune  before  the  service  began.  By  the 
kindness  of  the  priest  I  was  given  a  seat  on  one 
side  near  the  altar,  where  chairs  were  placed 
facing  across  the  church,  in  what  I  should  call 
the  chancel.  In  order  to  reach  the  seats  on  the 
side  where  I  sat  the  people  had  to  pass  around 
behind  the  altar.  Each  man  —  there  were  no 
women  in  this  part  of  the  church,  I  think —  as 
he  approached  the  altar  made  a  genuflection. 
Before  the  service  began  every  seat,  so  far  as  I 
could  see,  was  taken.  A  somber  tone  was  given 
to  the  congregation  by  the  prevalence  of  black 
in  the  gowns  of  the  women.  A  sense  of  so- 
lemnity pervaded  the  whole  church.  The  sensi- 
tive type  of  countenance  predominated  in  old 


156  NEW   ORLEANS 

and  young.  Plain  folk  they  were,  yet  bearing 
the  marks  of  gentility.  Most  of  them  must 
have  come  from  good  homes.  There  were  not 
lacking  those  who  bore  evidence  of  living  by 
the  labor  of  their  hands.  The  old  man  who 
knelt  next  to  me  was  callous  of  hand,  rough  of 
dress,  rugged  of  feature.  But  distinctions,  of 
which  at  most  there  was  but  little  sign,  seemed 
lost  in  the  feeling  of  common  dependence  upon 
the  God  whose  presence  they  felt  in  the  Sacra- 
ment which  the  priest  took  out  from  the  altar 
and  held  up  in  the  sight  of  them  all.  And  as 
the  choir  sang  the  O  Salutaris  and  the  altar-boy 
swung  the  censer  so  that  the  smoke  of  the 
incense  floated  out  over  the  kneeling  people, 
through  every  possible  physical  avenue  to  the 
soul,  supplanting  all  distractions,  came  the  one 
appeal  to  heed  and  worship  a  God  revealed  in 
sacrifice.  And  when  the  sermon  was  preached 
and  the  service  ended  and  the  people  had  all 
left  the  church,  at  least  one  Protestant  was 
wondering  whether  these  Creoles,  even  if  their 
religion  was  routine,  and  even  if  they  were  not 
well  convinced  that  God  is  in  all  life  and  may 
be  worshiped  in  all  places  and  times,  were  not 
in  abetter  way  than  many  who  are  more  rational 
and  more  conscience-driven,  and  yet  who,  Intel- 


NEW    ORLEANS  157 

lectually  assenting  to  God's  presence,  never 
with  the  heart  or  head  acknowledge  it,  and  who 
never  bend  the  knee  even  to  Baal. 

Still,   however   picturesque    and    interesting 
the  Creoles  are,  they  are  very  far  from  com- 
prising all   of  'New  Orleans.     Indeed,   across 
Canal  Street  from  the  French  quarter,  so  dis- 
tinctively Roman  Catholic,  there  is  a  life  as 
distinctively  Protestant.      Somebody  had  said 
to  me,  "The  farther  South  you  go  the  more 
Southern  you  will  find  it";  and  so  I  did  find  it 
m  some  of   my  experiences   in   New  Orleans. 
Indeed,  it  ought  not  to  have  been  surprising  to 
meet  there  people  who  had  reacted  to  the  fur- 
thest extreme  against  the  Latin  sense  of  morality 
and  religion.     In  that  city,  where  theaters  are 
open  Sunday  evening,  I  heard  views  concerning 
the  observance  of  Sunday  expressed  which  were 
not   less   than    Sabbatarian.     It   was   in   New 
Orleans  that  I  heard  a  prostitute  confess  that 
she  went  regularly  to  mass,  though  she  indig- 
nantly and  with   convincing    sincerity  denied 
that  she  went  there  to  ply  her  trade.     On  the 
other  hand,  it  was  also  in  New  Orleans  that  I 
heard  horror  expressed  that  a  clergyman  should 
go  to  the  opera  during  Lent.     To  this  Protes- 
tant element  belong  those  who  even  to-day  are 


158  NEW   ORLEANS 

living  in  the  memories  of  the  Confederacy,  with 
whom  it  is  as  impossible  for  a  Northerner  to 
discuss  the  negro  problem  as  it  is  for  a  South- 
erner to  discuss  it  with  an  unreconstructed 
Bostonian;  who  also,  to  their  high  credit  it 
should  be  said,  are  most  keenly  afraid  of  the 
spirit  of  commercialism  that  may  possibly  fol- 
low the  industrial  rejuvenation  of  the  South — 
the  commercial  spirit  that  tempts  churches  to 
pride  themselves  on  the  wealth  of  their  congre- 
gations, and  universities  to  measure  their  value 
by  the  amount  of  their  endowments;  that 
preaches  the  "  Gospel  of  the  Million  Dollars." 
If  there  was  one  moral  trait  emphatic  in  these 
ultra-Southern  Protestants,  it  was  their  whole- 
some hatred  of  smug  holiness. 

Some  of  the  Protestants  in  New  Orleans 
whose  acquaintance  it  was  a  delight  to  make 
were  Episcopalians.  There  were  two  matters 
in  which  I  think  they  were  generally  agreed: 
first,  that  they  had  had  more  effect  upon  the 
Catholics  than  the  Catholics  had  had  upon 
them  —  and  in  this  I  am  convinced  that  they 
particularized  a  general  truth  concerning  the 
relation  between  Catholics  and  Protestants 
throughout  the  country ;  second,  that,  notwith- 
standing this  fact,  the  presence  of  a  large  and 


NEW   OELEANS  159 

influential  Catholic  population  in  the  city  had 
made  impossible  any  considerable  ritualism  or 
even  High  Church  feeling  among  the  Episco- 
palians, the  inference  being  that  the  people  who 
found  the  undiluted  article  available  had  no 
taste  for  that  article  diluted. 

Influential  both  in  point  of  numbers  and  by 
strength  of  character,  the  Presbyterians  form  an- 
other important  body  among  the  Protestants; 
and  of  them  the  acknowledged  leader  in  ^N^ew 
Orleans,  and  virtually  in  great  measure  through- 
out the  South,  is  Dr.  Benjamin  Morgan  Palmer.^ 
Even  before  I  reached  ^ew  Orleans  I  heard  many 
tributes  to  the  magnetism  of  his  personality,  to 
the  effectiveness  of  his  doctrinal  leadership,  and 
to  his  human  interest  in  the  race  problem ;  then, 
in  ISTew  Orleans  itself,  again  and  again  from  men 
of  most  widely  various  points  of  view,  I  heard 
him  spoken  of  with  admiring  veneration.  If  the 
one  sermon  I  heard  him  preach  was  typical  of 
his  eloquence — and  I  was  informed  by  my  com- 
panion at  the  church  that  it  was — his  power  on 
an  audience  lay,  not  in  fervent,  glowing  rhetoric, 
often  characteristic  of  Southern  preachers,  but 
rather  in  forceful,  perspicuous  statement  which 

1  Since  this  chapter  was  written  the  death  of  this  venerable  minister, 
resulting  from  a  street-car  accident,  has  caused  widespread  personal  grief. 


J160  NEW  ORLEANS 

goes  from  premise  to  conclusion  with  unswerv- 
ing logic,  reinforced  by  a  remarkably  incisive 
personal  vigor.  The  whole  structure  of  his 
thought  was  theological.  As  an  illustration  I 
venture  to  state  in  brief  the  process  of  thought 
in  a  portion  of  his  sermon.  In  speaking  of 
faith,  he  said  that  the  question  is  sometimes 
raised.  How  can  a  race  be  saved  by  a  single 
act  of  faith?  For  an  answer  he  took  his  con- 
gregation to  the  "foot  of  that  tree  where  the 
tempter  brought  up  the  issue  of  the  veracity  of 
God";  there  God  based  his  promise  of  redemp- 
tion upon  the  condition  that  man  should  retract 
his  charge  against  God  and  simply  believe;  this 
means  the  withdrawal  of  self-assertion.  It  is 
the  same  self-assertiveness  that  characterized 
our  first  parents  which  keeps  men  out  of  the 
Church  to-day.  "  God  says,  '  You  must  be 
saved  my  way,  not  your  way;  accept  the  sub- 
stitute I  offer,  or  die  in  your  sins.  You  imist 
be  saved  by  grace,' "  otherwise  men  cannot  be 
saved  at  all.  This  theological  structure  had 
for  its  foundation  the  historicity  of  that  scene 
in  the  Garden  of  Eden;  without  it  the  struc- 
ture apparently  would  fall  to  the  ground.  And 
yet  I  think  the  real  force  of  the  sermon  was 
due  rather  to  the  preacher's  knowledge  of  hu- 


NEW   ORLEANS  161 

man  nature  and  of  the  moral  inflexibility  of  the 
character  of  God  than  to  skill  of  sermon  con- 
struction or  even  to  the  mechanical  exactitude 
of  doctrinal  statement.  In  this  evening  con- 
gregation, which  was  not  large,  the  men  out- 
numbered the  women  in  the  proportion  of  three 
to  two. 

When,  the  next  day,  I  called  upon  Dr.  Palmer, 
the  secret  of  his  power  over  not  only  a  whole 
city  but  over  a  large  portion  of  the  South  re- 
vealed itself  as  it  did  not  in  the  pulpit.  The 
fine  dignity,  the  warmth  and  courtesy  of  his 
manner,  the  youthful  vigor  of  his  eighty  years 
and  more,  and  his  overflow  of  sympathy  for  all 
things  human,  characterized  everything  that 
he  said.  The  contrast  between  the  great  wealth 
and  the  mean  poverty  that  exist  side  by  side 
even  in  newly  settled  America  seemed  to  him 
to  be  the  alarming  factor  in  the  industrial  situ- 
ation. He  expressed  a  very  personal  interest 
in  the  movements  of  the  workingmen.  Proud 
as  he  was  of  his  connection  with  the  Confed- 
eracy, he  was  even  prouder  of  being  a  loyal 
citizen  of  the  Union;  as  he  expressed  it,  he  was 
"  an  American  from  top  to  toe."  He  was  en- 
thusiastically interested  in  the  vast  agitation  of 
China,  and  expressed  joyfully  his  satisfaction 


162  NEW   ORLEANS 

at  the  triumph  of  our  country's  diplomacy  there. 
He  was  sanely  hopeful  regarding  the  solution 
of  the  negro  problem.  Relief  of  the  poor  by 
organized  effort,  cure  of  the  sick  by  hospitals 
and  dispensaries,  education  of  children  by 
schools  and  kindergartens,  have  no  more  inter- 
ested sympathizer  than  Dr.  Palmer.  But  all 
this  interest  on  his  own  part,  all  this  effort  on 
the  part  of  others,  he  defined  to  me  as  being 
merely  "humanitarian."  When  I  asked  him 
what  the  Presbyterian  Church  was  doing  in  all 
this,  he  replied:  "You  know  we  believe  that 
this  is  not  a  part  of  the  Church's  business.  It 
is  right  for  Christian  people  to  organize  char- 
itable societies;  but  the  duty  of  the  Church  is 
limited  to  doing  the  Lord's  work  in  the  Lord's 
way."  In  brief,  it  was  his  belief  that  the 
Church  should  devote  itself  exclusively  to  pro- 
claiming the  Gospel,  or  rather  a  plan  of  salva- 
tion ;  and  that  the  Church  would  not  be  doing 
the  Lord's  work  in  the  Lord's  way  by  mingling 
organically  with  the  organic  life  of  working- 
men,  or  by  undertaking  as  an  institution  to 
relieve  sickness,  poverty,  or  ignorance.  I  won- 
dered, as  I  ended  my  interview,  whether  I  had  not 
discovered  why,  on  the  one  hand,  I  had  heard 
such  praise  of  the  man,  and,  on  the  other,  none 
whatever  of  his  church. 


NEW   ORLEANS  163 

On  the  same  square  with  the  Presbyterian 
church  to  which  I  have  referred  was  a  building 
devoted  to  a  very  different  conception  of  Chris- 
tianity. One  rainy  afternoon  on  a  week-day  as 
I  passed  this  church  with  its  doors  grimly  shut 
and  with  a  chain  and  padlock  on  the  gate,  un- 
mistakably keeping  people  out,  I  noticed  this 
other  building ;  for  a  large  sign  announced  that 
it  was  a  lodging-house  and  that  it  belonged  to 
the  Salvation  Army.  There  was  no  shelter  for 
me  even  under  the  eaves  of  the  church,  but  I 
knew  that,  stranger  though  I  was,  I  should  be 
welcome  at  the  lodging-house.  So  I  entered. 
The  "  ensign "  in  charge,  Mr.  Scott,  showed 
me  the  building,  from  the  dormitory  rooms  at 
the  top  to  the  baths  and  disinfecting-rooms  at 
the  bottom.  The  cleanliness  and  order  were 
conspicuous.  Like  his  house,  Ensign  Scott 
was  manifestly  clean  clear  through ;  and  he  had 
a  sensible,  genuine  way  of  speech.  Fear  he 
did  not  seem  to  know  in  any  form,  and  work  he 
seemed  to  covet.  On  the  use  of  philanthropy  in 
religious  work  his  testimony  was  explicit.  He 
told  me  he  had  engaged  in  both  the  "  spiritual " 
and  the  "  social "  work  of  the  Army  —  to  quote 
the  terms  which  the  "  Salvationists  "  use  to  dis- 
tinguish the  work  done  by  means  of  preaching, 
singing,  prayer,  and  personal  conversation  for 


164  NEW   ORLEANS 

the  making  of  converts  from  the  work  in  relief 
of  all  kinds  of  destitution  —  and  without  hesi- 
tation he  asserted  that  he  had  had  more  success 
in  reaching  men  religiously  in  the  "  social " 
work  than  in  the  "spiritual";  and  explained 
how  right  there  in  that  lodging-house  he  had 
opportunities  of  presenting  Christ  to  men  in  a 
very  practical  way;  how  also  he  could  keep  a 
guiding  as  well  as  a  protecting  hand  on  the 
untried  confessor,  and  how  he  could  set  the 
new  disciple  to  work  for  his  Master.  Before  I 
went  out  again  into  the  rain  I  sat  down  in  the 
reading-room  and  fell  into  conversation  with  a 
man  who  had  drifted  over  Nicaragua,  Mexico, 
California,  Arizona,  and  I  know  not  where  else. 
He  represented  a  floating  population  which  find 
in  IsTew  Orleans  a  convenient  gathering-place 
between  the  South  and  Central  American 
countries  and  the  radiating  territory  of  the 
United  States.  For  religious  influence  the 
position  of  this  modest  Salvation  Ai*my  lodging- 
house  was  strategic. 

One  church,  at  any  rate,  which  through  the 
efforts  of  its  Northern  rector  has  come  to  rec- 
ognize its  own  strategic  position,  is  making  re- 
ligion real  for  this  floating  population  by  the 
homely  means  of  a  wood-yard.     As  the  result 


NEW   ORLEANS  165 

of  its  success  it  has  established  a  lodging-house, 
the  superintendent  of  which  was  himself  one  of 
these  floaters  who  had  come  to  the  wood-yard 
for  work.  Besides  aiding  these  men  from  South 
America,  this  church  is  doing goodby  such  simple 
means  to  two  other  classes :  the  "  hoboes,"  who 
have  no  future  and  want  none,  and  men  who  are 
temporarily  out  of  work.  Through  the  super- 
intendent, the  rector,  Mr.  Warner,  has  been  able 
to  come  in  contact  with  these  three  classes  of 
men  and  know  their  needs.  He  told  me  that 
from  his  experience  he  had  come  to  believe  that 
the  South  was  virgin  soil  for  all  kinds  of  "  in- 
stitutional work  "  (as  the  phrase  is) .  He  had 
devoted  his  energy  to  this  kind  partly  because 
he  had  found  it  more  difficult  to  approach  the 
organized  laborers  on  account  of  the  selfishness 
of  their  organizations. 

For  this  conclusion  I  could  find  good  reasons 
out  of  my  own  experience.  The  old  organization 
of  the  Knights  of  Labor  was  to  this  extent  un- 
selfish, that  in  any  labor  difficulty  a  committee 
of  workmen  might  be  made  up  of  men  from 
various  trades,  and  thus  the  sense  of  brother- 
hood was  fostered.  But  in  the  present  domi- 
nant organization,  the  Federation  of  Labor, 
the  autonomy  of  the  various  trades  unions  tends 


166  NEW    ORLEANS 

to  selfishness.  This  change  in  the  spirit  of  or- 
ganized labor  was  concretely  described  to  me 
by  a  I^ew  Orleans  minister  who  had  been  a 
member  of  the  Knights  of  Labor,  but  who  now, 
under  the  present  conditions,  had  encountered  a 
new  obstacle.  In  fairness  I  add  that  one  man 
who  had  been  a  member  of  both  the  Knights 
and  the  Federation  expressed  his  opinion  that 
the  former  were  just  as  selfish  as  the  latter, 
though  he  added  that  his  opinion  might  be 
grounded  on  his  own  individual  experience, 
which  in  the  case  of  the  older  organization  had 
been  exceptionally  bitter. 

Of  the  wage-earners  whom  I  have  encoun- 
tered in  the  course  of  my  trip  those  in  New 
Orleans  seemed  to  be,  nominally  at  least,  the 
most  closely  connected  with  the  Church.  One 
of  these,  a  recognized  leader  of  the  laboring 
men  of  the  city,  described  a  great  many  others 
besides  himself  when  he  said  to  me,  "I'm  a 
Catholic  by  trade,  but  I  don't  follow  my  pro- 
fession very  closely." 

My  conversation  with  this  labor  leader  was  as 
full  of  constructive  suggestion  as  any  I  have 
had. 

"  The  workingman  goes  to  church,  and  pays 
a   nickel,"  he   said,  "  and   then   he   hears   the 


NEW   ORLEANS  167 

priest  preach  a  sermon  on  '  bear  your  cross,'  and 
he  decides  that  it  isn't  worth  a  nickel.  But, 
just  the  same,  the  Church  could  be  the  greatest 
power  for  educating  and  uplifting  the  working- 
men.  Employers  are  never  against  organized 
labor  when  they  understand  it  to  be  simply  self- 
defense.  'Now  the  Church,  without  compromis- 
ing itself  in  preaching  destruction  of  property, 
could  help  labor  by  making  employers  under- 
stand it." 

When  he  mentioned  self-defense,  I  asked 
him  whether  he  thought  that  the  change  in  the 
nature  of  labor  organization  had  not  increased 
the  spirit  of  selfishness. 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  that,"  he  admitted ; 
"  perhaps  so.  This  is  something  the  preachers 
could  preach  against  and  help  about,  if  they 
wanted  to." 

As  our  conversation  turned  to  the  relation  of 
organized  labor  to  strikes  he  spoke  very  dispas- 
sionately, and  though  he  had  himself  been 
prominent  in  one  of  the  great  strikes,  he  con- 
sidered them  to  be  an  evil  to  be  avoided,  and 
believed  in  organized  labor  to  that  end.  Then, 
speaking  of  the  need  of  moral  instruction,  he 
continued : 

"  If  only  the  pulpit  would  take  this  up  and 


168  NEW   OELEANS 

educate  the  workingman !  —  for  now  employers 
are  afraid  to  have  their  workmen  organized  be- 
cause they  are  ignorant.  The  workingmen 
could  be  educated  and  the  employers  could  be 
informed  by  the  Church.  If  any  prominent 
divine  would  take  this  up,  I'd  go  through  the 
city  as  a  missioner  with  him.  The  South  pre- 
sents a  better  chance  for  the  churches  than  the 
North  in  this  respect,  because  the  workingmen 
are  not  so  far  alienated  here  as  there;  and  that 
is  mainly  due  to  the  fact  that  there  are  not  so 
many  foreigners  among  the  workingmen  of  the 
South.  There  is  no  reason  why  capitalist  and 
laborer  should  not  get  together ;  after  all,  it  is 
the  hog  idea  that  keeps  them  apart;  and  that  is 
one  great  thing  the  Church  can  do  —  it  can  root 
out  that  idea.  The  Church  without  any  doubt 
has  a  far  better  chance  to  educate  both  the 
workingmen  and  the  employers  than  any  other 
organization.  For  instance,  when  Debs  was 
here  to  address  an  open  meeting  of  workingmen, 
as  a  matter  of  fact  there  were  as  many  employ- 
ers present  as  workingmen.  ^N^ow  of  course 
that  was  a  good  thing,  but  Debs  represented 
only  one  side.  ISTow,  if  there  had  been  a  priest 
or  preacher  standing  there  speaking  on  behalf  of 
good  feeling,  it  would  have  been  far  more  eff ec- 


NEW   ORLEANS  169 

tive;  because  the  Church  isn't  supposed  to 
stand  for  either  the  workingman  or  the  employer. 
I  believe  in  religion.  I  don't  know  what  we 
should  do  without  it." 

Another  Catholic  workingman  said  to  me, 
significantly,  "  The  best  Catholics  are  the  best 
workmen."  In  that  phrase  he  expressed  con- 
cretely one  of  the  tests  to  which  religion  of 
every  form  was  subjected  by  all  sorts  of  men 
whom  I  fell  in  with  in  the  course  of  my  trip. 
The  fruit  by  which  they  knew  the  rehgion  they 
admired  was  not  peace  of  mind  but  good  works. 

It  was  a  matter  of  regret  to  me  that  I  saw  so 
little  of  the  Jews  of  IsTew  Orleans,  who  form  a 
distinguished  and  influential  body  in  the  popu- 
lation of  the  city.  The  slight  glimpse  I  did 
have  made  keener  my  regret  that  I  could  not 
see  more.  My  impression  can  perhaps  be  best 
given  by  an  anecdote  which  a  Jewish  gentleman 
of  especially  fine  fiber  and  spiritual  character 
told  me.  He  said  that  a  Yankee,  in  the  course 
of  a  conversation  with  him,  made  frequent  use 
of  the  expressions  "  Christian  forbearance  "  and 
"  Christian  charity."  After  a  while  this  Jewish 
gentleman  amusingly  protested  with  the  ques- 
tion, "  That  is  very  well,  my  friend,  but  how 
about  Jewish  charity  and  Jewish  forbearance?" 


170  NEW   ORLEANS 

The  Yankee  stopped  suddenly,  as  if  struck  by  a 
new  idea,  and  was  silent.  The  next  day,  how- 
ever, he  called  on  the  Jew,  and,  taking  his 
hand,  said  simply,  "My  Christian  friend!" 

When  I  left  New  Orleans,  I  carried  with  me 
the  mental  picture  of  a  city  very  different  from 
that  which  my  expectant  imagination  had 
painted  before  I  had  arrived.  Instead  of  a 
quaint  replica  of  an  old  French  town,  I  had 
seen  a  marvelously  interesting  cosmopolitan 
city.  And  as  I  later  recalled  my  experiences  in 
New  Orleans,  the  word  "  Creole  "  actually  did 
not  again  suggest  itself  until  I  began  to  write 
this  record  of  my  visit  there. 


THE  EDGE  OF   THE   SOUTHWEST 


yii 

THE  EDGE  OF  THE   SOUTHWEST 

IT  was  in  a  slow  accommodation  train  run- 
ning from  Memphis  to  Little  Rock.  Many 
times  during  the  long  morning  the  train  was 
emptied  and  filled  again  with  country  people 
and  traveling  salesmen.  Mile  after  mile  we 
riunbled  past  long  stretches  of  swamp-land, 
covered  with  its  charred  forest  of  spindling 
trees  burnt  to  save  the  labor  of  felling,  and  its 
monotonous  string  of  lonely,  dissolute  little 
hovels,  where  lazy  family  groups  of  negroes 
lolled  and  stared.  Under  some  circumstances 
even  people  cease  to  be  interesting;  and  I  was 
heartily  glad  when  the  tedium  was  broken  by  a 
change  of  cars.  I  found  myself  crowded  with 
a  number  of  "  drummers  "  in  the  compartment 
of  one  of  the  rear  passenger  coaches.  Strewed 
over  the  floor  of  the  car  were  vahses  and  sam- 

173 


174     THE   EDGE   OF   THE   SOUTHWEST 

ple-cases  in  confusion.  The  conversation 
among  the  men  was  mainly  of  the  various 
"houses"  they  "represented."  Finally  one  of 
the  "  drummers  "  opened  his  valise,  pulled  out 
a  bottle  of  whisky,  and  handed  it  about  to  his 
brothers  in  trade.  His  manner  was  that  of  a 
general  who  was  summoning  his  forces  prelim- 
inary to  making  his  coup  de  main. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  I  have  here  the  best- 
selling  article  I  ever  handled." 

Out  of  the  confused  pile  of  baggage  he 
extricated  a  small  leather  case.  He  pressed  a 
spring,  and  the  case  lay  open  on  his  knees. 
"  This  is  the  greatest  panoramic  chart  of  Bibli- 
cal history  ever  made.  Here  are  some  cards 
describing  it.  Keep  them."  He  had  the  undi- 
vided attention  of  the  whole  group.  "  In  the 
center  space  you  will  see  the  illustrations  of 
Bible  scenes;  in  the  left-hand  space  the  Scrip- 
ture text  giving  in  inspired  language  the  state- 
ment of  the  historical  facts.  In  the  right-hand 
space  appear  the  subjects,  with  the  dates  accu- 
rately noted.  Here,  for  instance,  is  the  picture 
of  Creation,  modeled  closely  after  the  Biblical 
language,  so  that  we  can  know  just  how  it 
looked  —  Scripture  texts  from  Genesis  on  the 
left,  date  on  the  right.     Insert  this  adjustable 


THE   EDGE   OF   THE   SOUTHWEST     175 

crank,  and  you  have  the  next  scene  —  Adam 
and  Eve  in  the  Garden  of  Eden  —  Scripture 
text  on  the  left,  date  on  the  right.  A  child  can 
manage  it  and  understand  it;  at  the  same  time 
it  is  instructive  to  the  most  learned  Biblical 
scholars.  Look  at  these  indorsements  from  the 
most  eminent  divines  and  theological  professors 
of  all  denominations.  ISTothing  like  it.  I  make 
a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  a  month  with  it 
right  here  in  Arkansas ;  I  ask  nothing  better." 

"  It  is  certainly  the  best  device  I  ever  saw 
for  making  Bible  study  easy,"  remarked  a 
rather  flashily  dressed  member  of  the  brother- 
hood. 

"Why,  gentlemen,"  declared  the  man  with 
the  Bible  chart  and  the  whisky,  "  I  am  ready  to 
say  that  I  have  been  a  student  of  the  Bible  all 
my  life;  but  I  never  learned  so  much  about 
Bible  history  as  I  have  since  I  have  been  sell- 
ing this  wonderful  illustrated  panoramic  chart, 
the  most  remarkable  work  ever  published  in 
the  interest  of  religion." 

This  incident  could  not  have  happened  in  the 
]^orth,  nor  in  the  extreme  South.  In  the 
Korth  that  sort  of  religious  publication  would 
not  have  been  so  commercially  profitable,  and, 
besides,  no  Northern  man  would  have  dared  to 


176     THE   EDGE  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST 

assume  such  sympathy  on  the  part  of  a  chance 
group  of  men  in  a  railroad  train.  On  the  other 
hand,  in  the  extreme  South,  though  the  rehgious 
conceptions  of  this  man  of  Arkansas  might 
have  been  congenial,  his  aggressiveness  would 
have  been  entirely  out  of  place. 

To  many  readers  the  incident  I  have  related 
of  the  man  in  the  train  may  seem  to  be  exag- 
gerated, or  at  least  extreme.  It  was,  however, 
a  striking  confirmation  of  what  was  told  me  by 
the  Secretary  of  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association  in  one  of  the  most  important  of  the 
cities  of  the  Southwest.  I  had  arrived  there 
late  in  the  evening.  People  were  coming  into 
the  city  by  train-loads  to  attend  the  races.  On 
my  arrival,  instead  of  going  to  one  of  the  hotels, 
I  went  directly  to  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association.  I  had  learned,  by  that  time,  of 
the  great  value  of  the  Associations  as  sources 
of  information  and  help  to  strangers.  There  is 
no  more  practical  benefit  which  the  Associa- 
tions throughout  the  country  are  conferring 
than  simply  making  it  known  that  they  are 
ready  to  give  welcome  and  counsel  to  any  man 
who  finds  himself  in  their  neighborhood  without 
friends  to  turn  to.  Though  the  Secretary  in 
this  instance  was  very  busy,  he  left  his  du-ec- 


THE  EDGE  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST     177 

tors'  meeting  to  give  me  advice  as  to  lodging 
for  the  night,  telephoned  to  one  hotel  after 
another,  and  then  finally,  when  answers  from 
each  place  came,  "  Every  room  full,  on  account 
of  the  races,"  offered  me,  half  humorously, 
half  seriously,  a  place  on  one  of  the  reading- 
room  tables  for  the  night.  Thanks  to  him,  I 
did  finally  find  a  supper  and  a  real  bed.  In  the 
meantune,  while  I  was  hesitating  to  go  out  into 
the  storm,  he  talked  to  me  very  frankly  about 
certain  phases  of  the  religious  Ufe  of  the  city. 

"  The  churches  here  are  after  the  individual. 
There  is  a  recognized  need  for  more  social 
work.  The  ministers  here  recognize  this  weak- 
ness; but  they  feel  more  especially  the  lack 
of  spirituality  in  the  churches  themselves."  To 
illustrate  this  lack  of  spirituality  he  spoke  of 
the  way  in  which  all  church  work  suffered 
during  the  racing  season.  To  his  personal 
knowledge,  "  women  who  are  church  members 
go  to  the  races  and  instruct  their  children  how 
to  bet.  One  deacon,"  he  said,  "was  called  in  for 
help  on  Association  work,  and  sent  word  that 
he  had  a  sick  headache  —  result  of  losing  thirty 
dollars   (a  small  sum,  but  the  deacon,  though 

rich,  was  '  close  ')  at  the  races.     Yes, is  a 

tough  place  —  not  because  of  open  vice,  but 


178     THE   EDGE  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST 

because    of     low     standards     among    church 
people." 

Certamly  the  city  and  indeed  the  whole 
region  for  scores  of  miles  around  seemed  to  be 
horse-mad;  and  I  could  well  believe  that  what 
the  Secretary  told  me,  after  making  all  allow- 
ance for  possible  personal  bias  in  moral  judg- 
ment, was  not  unfair.  Those  churches  in  the 
South  and  Southwest  which  especially  pride 
themselves  on  the  fact  that  they  are  stalwart  in 
doctrine  are  not,  so  far  as  I  could  see,  strong  in 
moral  fiber  or  rich  in  spiritual  life.  There  are 
three  elements  that  ought  to  be  well  balanced 
in  all  religious  life:  a  measurable  degree  of 
intellectual  certainty,  moral  conduct  based  on 
fundamental  principles,  and  that  sense  of  per- 
sonal relationship  to  God  which  is  usually 
termed  spiritual  experience.  In  the  Southwest 
intellectual  certainty  was  very  manifest;  moral 
conduct  was  emphasized,  but  seemed  to  be 
determined  by  more  or  less  dogmatic  precepts 
generally  acquiesced  in  rather  than  by  unifying 
principle ;  and  spiritual  experience  was  confined 
to  a  vague  assurance  that  the  future  condition 
of  one  who  maintained  his  intellectual  certainty 
and  followed  the  accepted  moral  precepts  would 
not  be  endangered.     In  other  words,  the   re- 


THE  EDGE  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST     179 

ligion  of  the  Southwest  seemed  to  be  the 
rehgion  of  the  South  largely  stripped  of  its 
charm. 

At  the  beginning  of  my  trip  some  one  told 
me  that  there  was  no  better  reflector  of  the 
religious  life  of  the  Southern  people  than  the 
provincial  religious  papers.  My  experience 
confirmed  this.  The  reason  for  this  fact  is  not 
far  to  seek.  The  Southern  people  are  not  great 
readers.  Even  the  clergymen  of  St.  Louis,  so 
I  was  told  at  a  denominational  book-store,  buy 
but  few  books.  The  dwellers  in  the  small 
towns  and  the  country  regions  of  the  South, 
whose  access  to  literature  is  more  difficult  and 
whose  means  for  purchase  are  small,  are  the 
more  dependent  for  their  reading  upon  their 
denominational  papers. 

I  came  across  one  of  these  clearing-houses  of 
religious  thought  in  one  of  the  important  cities 
of  the  Southwest.  It  was  the  office  of  a  Bap- 
tist weekly  paper.  When  I  entered,  the  editor, 
an  elderly  man  with  a  long  gray  beard,  looked 
up  at  me  over  his  spectacles.  I  stated  my 
errand  and  the  name  of  the  paper  I  represented. 
At  the  mention  of  The  Outlook  his  face  grew 
grave  and  somewhat  severe.  Very  courteously, 
however,  he  gave  me  one  or  two  copies  of  his 


180     THE   EDGE  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST 

paper  and  presented  me  with  some  statistics 
concerning  his  denomination  in  the  State;  but 
as  for  vouchsafing  any  expression  of  his  ideas 
or  point  of  view  —  not  a  word.  He  was  as  reti- 
cent as  a  diplomat.  Soon  a  young  man  en- 
tered. The  editor  introduced  him  as  his  son, 
and  put  me  into  his  hands.  The  son  was  no 
more  communicative  than  his  father,  though 
equally  courteous.  At  last,  as  if  he  could  no 
longer  withhold,  he  roundly  said: 

"We  used  to  read  The  Outlook  with  great 
pleasure,  when  it  was  liberal:  but  now  it  has 
flopped  on  public  questions." 

This  frankness  broke  the  ice.  For  the  rest 
of  the  morning  there  was  no  diplomacy.  The 
trouble  he  took  in  giving  up  his  work  to  talk 
with  me  and  in  taking  me  from  one  place  to 
another  to  introduce  me  to  representative  men 
was  one  of  the  many  demonstrations  I  have 
had  that  people  are  responsive  to  any  one  who 
they  believe  is  trying  to  see  from  their  point  of 
view.  Before  I  left  the  ofiice  both  the  editor 
and  his  son  expressed  a  very  genuine  and  cor- 
dial interest  in  the  purpose  of  The  Outlook 
to  give,  not  an  array  of  religious  statistics,  but 
a  series  of  pictures  of  religious  life  in  America. 

In  the  conversation  of  these  men  there  was  no 


THE  EDGE   OF  THE  SOUTHWEST     181 

suggestion  of  interest  in  what  is  called  spiritual 
life.  There  was  not  even  any  use  of  cant  terms, 
which  may  be  called  the  blank  cartridges  of  the 
Church  militant;  no  hint  that  religion  had  to  do 
with  character,  except  as  it  involved  stalwart 
adherence  to  a  faith  that  had  once  for  all  been 
delivered  to  the  saints.  !N^or  was  there  any 
recognition  of  the  effect  which  religion  might 
have  on  the  social  life  of  men.  Indeed,  when  I 
made  an  inquiry  on  this  point,  I  was  told  that 
there  were  no  social  problems  there!  Happy 
city  of  over  thirty  thousand,  without  a  social 
problem  to  disturb  its  Christian  people!  This 
was  the  reason  given  for  the  fact  that  the 
churches  devoted  all  their  attention  to  the  con- 
version of  the  individual.  This  "conversion" 
was  attained  when  the  individual  intellectually 
accepted  certain  dogmas  and  publicly  identified 
himself  with  some  church.  Under  these  two 
divisions,  doctrine  and  organization,  could  be 
included  all  that  I  found  characteristic  of  the 
religious  life  of  the  Southwest,  as  expressed  not 
only  by  what  these  two  editors  said,  but,  with 
perhaps  one  or  two  exceptions,  by  what  I  heard 
on  every  hand.  The  political  ideas  of  my  inter- 
locutor consistently  reinforced  his  religious  con- 
ceptions.    He  was,  of  course,  a  Democrat,  and 


182     THE  EDGE   OF  THE  SOUTHWEST 

was  an  active  member  of  his  party  organization. 
He  measured  political  life,  first,  by  political 
doctrines — the  formulas  of  faith  that  had  once 
for  all  been  delivered  to  the  fathers  of  the  Re- 
public— and,  second,  by  his  party,  which  appar- 
ently could  do  no  wrong.  His  religious  creed 
was  like  his  political  platform  —  not  subject  to 
interrogation.  Any  one  who  questioned  either 
was  "more  liberal,"  or,  as  he  preferred  to  say, 
"  looser  "  —  both  terms  of  opprobrium.  His 
Church  was,  like  his  party,  the  embodiment  of 
righteousness  and  safety.  Those  who  belonged 
to  other  parties  and  other  churches  were  mis- 
taken— that  was  all  that  need  be  said  about 
them.  As  for  those  who  belonged  to  no  party 
and  no  church  —  well,  we  did  not  discuss  such 
people.  To  hold  an  intellectual  position  involv- 
ing self-contradiction  seemed  to  cause  him  no 
mental  disturbance.  At  best,  if  there  was  to 
be  any  reconciliation  between  theory  and  fact, 
it  was  the  facts  that  had  to  be  brought  into 
conformity  with  the  theories,  not  the  theories 
to  the  facts.  He  was  urgent  that  the  Filipinos 
be  given  at  once  full  political  rights ;  and  when 
I  asked  him  to  harmonize  that  opinion  with  the 
suppression  by  his  party  of  the  rights  of  the 
negroes,  he  replied,  "  Oh,  the  negro  has  his  po- 


THE  EDGE  OF   THE  SOUTHWEST     183 

litical  rights  here."  It  happened  that  that  day 
was  election  day ;  and  the  paper  reported  nearly 
six  times  as  many  Democratic  as  Republican 
votes.  I  wanted  to  find  out  what  had  become 
of  the  negro  vote.  So  the  next  day  I  inquired 
of  a  negro,  who  had  the  confidence  of  the  white 
people  because  he  was  emphatically  not  a  poli- 
tician, whether  he  ever  voted.  "  ISTot  now,"  he 
answered.  "Would  you  be  allowed  to  vote?" 
"Yes,"  he  said  with  hesitation;  "but,"  he 
added  discreetly,  "you  know  I  don't  want  to 
go  into  politics."  "  Do  the  negroes  here  gen- 
erally vote?"  I  persisted.  "Yes."  "Are  their 
votes  counted?"  "Yes."  "Out?"  "Yes"; 
and  he  shrugged  his  shoulders,  smiled,  and 
changed  the  subject. 

ISTow,  the  young  Baptist  editor  had  no  inten- 
tion of  misrepresenting  facts  to  me;  but  his 
political  doctrine  needed  certain  facts  for  its 
support,  and  therefore,  he  inferred,  such  the 
facts  must  be.  In  religious  matters  his  mental 
attitude  was  the  same.  His  theory  of  what  his 
denomination  ought  to  do  was  firmly  established. 
Inasmuch  as  that  theory  was  that  the  denomina- 
tion should  concern  itself  only  for  bringing 
about  individual  conversions,  there  could  be  no 
social  problems.     To  make  up  for  his  lack  of 


184     THE  EDGE  OF   THE  SOUTHWEST 

interest  in  the  actual  facts  of  life  which  affect 
religion  (regarded  as  a  spirit  of  life  or  a  Christ- 
like spirit  in  the  life  of  to-day),  he  evinced  a 
very  great  deal  of  interest  in  the  maintenance  of 
the  most  minute  details  of  doctrine.  Baptism, 
of  course,  was,  according  to  his  belief,  essential 
to  Christian  discipleship^;  and  also,  of  course, 
it  was  not  baptism  unless  it  was  immersion. 
But  even  thus  stated  the  doctrine  was  too  gen- 
eral. "  Southern  Baptists,  you  know,"  he  said, 
"  are  strongly  opposed  to  alien  immersion  — 
that  is,  we  deny  the  validity  of  the  rite  as  per- 
formed by  '  Disciples.'  There  is  no  laxity  on 
this  point.  JSTorthern  Baptists  are  looser  in  this 
respect;    but,   partly  because   they    are  good- 


1  This  phrase  "  Christian  discipleship,"  though  expressing  precisely  what  I 
mean,  is  evidentlj'  open  to  misunderstanding,  as  a  number  of  letters  I  have 
received  since  the  first  publication  of  this  chapter  have  indicated.  I  there- 
fore take  this  opportunity  of  saying  —  what  seems  too  obvious  to  be  incorpo- 
rated into  the  text  —  that  "  Christian  discipleship  "  is  not  here  used  as  a  syno- 
nym of  "conversion  "  or  "regeneration,"  but  includes  open  and  adequate 
acceptance  and  co7ifession  of  the  lordship  and  authority  of  Christ.  Every 
rigorous  Baptist  insists  that  baptism  is  an  indispensable  part  of  even  ele- 
mentary obedience  to  Christ,  and  that  church  membership,  of  which  bap- 
tism is  a  prerequisite,  is  an  indispensable  part  of  open  confession  of  Christ. 
It  is  not  surprising,  however,  that  Baptists  have  protested  against  the  idea 
which  they  have  read  into  my  statement,  for  that  is  the  very  point  on  which 
they  take  issue  with  the  "  Disciples."  The  latter  —  at  least  those  of  the  ex- 
treme type  —  declare  that  baptism  is  a  prerequisite  to  "  regeneration,"  while 
the  former  owe  their  origin  and  existence  as  a  sect  largely  to  their  protest 
against  all  forms  of  the  doctrine  of  "baptismal  regeneration"  on  the 
ground  that  it  is  a  superstition.  The  letters  I  have  received  on  this  subject 
afford  illustration  of  the  intensity  of  doctrinal  controversy  between  the 
sects  in  the  region  I  have  designated  as  the  Edge  of  the  Southwest. 


THE   EDGE  OF   THE   SOUTHWEST     185 

humored,  those  who  come  here  fall  into  our 
ways,  and,  by  correspondence  with  friends  at 
home  in  the  North,  produce  a  reflex  influence 
there  for  greater  doctrinal  soundness.  The 
insistence  on  doctrine  is  continued  here  un- 
abated." 

This  hint  at  the  controversial  origin  of  this 
dogmatic  spirit  of  the  Southwest  was  character- 
istic. It  was  illustrated  by  a  conversation  I  had 
with  a  cultivated  lady  who  had  been  born  and 
bred  in  Kentucky,  but  had  lived  in  another 
State  to  the  south  and  west  for  many  years. 
She  told  me  that  her  father  and  mother  were 
Disciples,  or  "  Christians  "  (as  the  followers  of 
Alexander  Campbell  are  variously  called).  As 
is  generally  known,  "  Campbellities "  (the 
name  which,  though  repudiated  by  themselves, 
is  the  only  one  that  is  distinctive)  declare  that 
they  are  not  a  denomination ;  that  they  have  no 
creed  but  the  Kew  Testament  and  no  doctrines 
but  the  commands  of  Jesus.  They  are,  how- 
ever, as  insistent  upon  immersion  as  are  the 
Baptists,  and  have  very  decided  opinions  about 
the  relation  between  repentance  and  faith. 
Under  the  influences  of  this  form  of  belief  this 
lady  was  educated.  Her  parents  gave  her  a 
'New  Testament  and  told  her  to  read  it  and 


186     THE   EDGE   OF   THE   SOUTHWEST 

determine  for  herself  what  her  belief  should  be. 
In  that  region  the  Baptists  were  the  other  ag- 
grressive  sect.  Just  because  these  two  denom- 
inations  were  so  nearly  alike  in  general  matters 
of  belief,  their  differences  in  details  of  doctrines 
made  them  and  still  make  them  the  more  intense 
in  theological  conflict.  She  exercised  her  right 
of  private  judgment,  not  by  formulating  her 
own  faith,  but  by  deciding  between  the  tenets 
of  opposing  sects.  And  she  chose  the  dog- 
mas of  the  Baptists.  Her  belief  was,  therefore, 
the  outcome  of  theological  conflict,  and,  like  a 
conqueror  who  has  won  new  territory  only  after 
battle  and  privation,  she  guarded  her  hard-won 
spoils  with  severe  and  jealous  vigilance.  In 
her  belief,  Christianity  was  a  Law  to  be  obeyed 
—  not  a  new  motive  to  form  character  and 
determine  conduct,  but  an  external  command 
which  required  unquestioning  submission.  Her 
chief  interest  in  talking  with  me  was,  as  she 
phrased  it,  "to  find  out  what  a  thoughtful 
Pedobaptist  would  say  in  defense  of  his  belief." 
When  I  began  to  tell  what  I  thought  such  "  a 
Pedobaptist  would  say,"  I  found  her  ready  with 
her  proof-texts  and  her  answers;  until  I  soon 
felt  myself,  too,  growing  eager  for  the  en- 
counter.    For  that  moment  I  understood  and 


THE   EDGE   OF   THE   SOUTHWEST     187 

entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  rehgion  of  the 
Sonthwest.  How  tragic  the  outcome  of  such  a 
sjDirit  may  be,  those  who  have  read  James  Lane 
Allen's  "Reign  of  Law"  can  understand. 
Sometimes  the  outcome  is  not  only  tragic  but 
almost  grotesque,  as  was  the  case  of  a  man 
whom  I  met  in  the  extreme  South.  He  had 
been  bred  in  this  Edge  of  the  Southwest,  and 
had  been  imbued  with  its  spirit;  but,  finding 
nothing  beautiful  in  it,  rejected  it  in  toto^  and  in 
doing  so  rejected  Christianity  itself.  But  so 
strong  was  the  influence  of  his  early  training 
that  he  continued  to  find  his  most  delightful 
avocation  to  consist  in  writing  controversial 
essays  on  ISTew  Testament  exegesis,  and  to-day 
has  some  considerable  reputation  as  a  theolo- 
gian. 

As  a  consequence  of  this  atmosphere  of  con- 
troversy, an  evangelist  who  disregards  distinc- 
tions of  dogma  and  makes  his  appeal  both 
intellectually  simple  and  frankly  emotional  is  apt 
to  be  very  effective  in  the  Southwest.  This  was 
illustrated  by  an  experience  of  mine  in  Little 
Rock,  Arkansas.  I  had  dropped  in  one  even- 
ing at  a  prayer-meeting  in  a  Baptist  church. 
There  were  very  few  present;  apparently  I 
was  the  only  stranger.     An  elderly  gentleman 


188     THE  EDGE  OF  THE   SOUTHWEST 

with  a  patriarchal  beard  and  a  very  benignant 
face  took  charge  of  the  meeting  in  the  absence 
of  the  pastor.  After  reading  a  psahn  he  turned 
toward  me  and  asked  me  to  offer  prayer.  AVith 
this  unexpected  request  I  of  course  willingly 
complied.  Two  or  three  took  part  in  the 
meeting,  one  of  whom  was  a  very  young  man  of 
somewhat  self-important  bearing,  who  uttered 
a  most  rhetorical  jeremiad  against  the  Chris- 
tians of  the  city  because  they  did  not  go  to 
prayer-meeting,  and  closed  with  a  threat  that 
God  in  his  wrath  would  burn  them  all  up.  At 
the  close  of  the  meeting  the  elderly  gentleman 
who  had  been  the  leader  at  once  came  to  me, 
welcomed  me,  mquired  who  I  was,  and,  after 
hearing  of  my  purpose,  greatly  to  my  astonish- 
ment offered  me  the  hospitahty  which  he  and 
his  gracious  wife  later  extended  to  me  in  their 
sumptuous  home.  He  was  a  former  Governor 
of  the  State  and  a  prominent  officer  of  his 
church  —  indeed,  had  been  ordained  as  a  Baptist 
preacher. 

"  May  I  ask  how  you  had  the  confidence  to 
call  on  a  stranger  for  prayer?  "  I  asked. 

"  Oh,"  he  rephed,  "  any  one  who  comes  into 
a  little  prayer-meeting  like  this  may  be  pre- 
sumed to  be  able  to  lead  in  prayer."     (That 


THE   EDGE   OF  THE   SOUTHWEST     189 

and  the  incident  of  the  drummer  with  the  Bible 
chart  tell  a  great  deal  about  religious  condi- 
tions in  the  Southwest.)  "  But,"  the  Governor 
protested,  "  you  must  not  judge  us  by  this  little 
meeting.  There's  a  revival  going  on  in  the 
Methodist  church,  and  most  of  our  people  are 
over  there.     I  should  advise  you  to  go." 

When  I  reached  the  church,  I  found  it 
crowded.  People  were  standing  in  the  aisles. 
On  the  platform  a  big  man,  with  a  voice  that 
had  the  volume  of  a  diapason  and  the  tiinbre  of 
a  hautboy,  was  exhorting  the  audience.  He 
had  the  instincts  of  a  dramatic  orator,  and  he 
showed  them  as  he  told  a  very  simple  story. 
Grown  men  throughout  the  audience  were  wip- 
ing their  eyes  with  their  handkerchiefs.  The 
charming  young  girl  in  the  story  had  divested 
herself  of  her  finery  and  had  made  the  old  folks 
comfortable,  had  touched  their  hearts  by  her 
affection,  and  then  had  bidden  farewell,  when 
the  evangelist  turned,  and,  with  his  face  and 
arms  uplifted,  declared  how  much  richer,  fuller, 
more  self-denying  was  the  love  of  Christ,  and 
then,  reaching  out  toward  the  congregation, 
seemed  to  single  out  here  and  there  an  indi- 
vidual to  whom  he  appealed  to  accept  this  love 
and  become   Christ's.     Then,   after   a  hymn, 


190    THE   EDGE   OF  THE  SOUTHWEST 

came  the  "  after-meeting,"  when  he  called  upon 
his  hearers  to  confess  their  faith.  With  homely 
illustration,  and  without  a  reference  to  theologi- 
cal formulas,  he  insisted  upon  the  simplicity  of 
Christianity.  While  the  choir  and  congrega- 
tion sang  softly,  he  continued  his  appeals,  and, 
as  one  by  one  many  people  came  forward  — 
men,  women,  and  children  —  he  took  them  by 
the  hands  and  asked  for  them  the  prayers  of 
believers.  That  many  of  his  methods  were 
meretricious  and  most  of  his  ethical  appeals 
were  fanatical  did  not  weigh  for  an  instant 
against  the  simplicity  of  his  gospel  and  its  em- 
phasis upon  the  personal  —  yes,  and,  if  you  will 
have  it  so,  the  emotional  —  relationship  between 
the  human  life  and  God.  It  was  to  hear  this 
that  people  had  fled  in  throngs  from  the  discord 
of  sects.  But  back  to  the  atmosphere  of  con- 
troversy they  had  to  go  —  it  may  be  imagined 
with  what  confusion  of  mind. 

Between  the  ^N^orth  and  East  on  the  one  hand 
and  the  Southwest  on  the  other,  the  city  of  St. 
Louis  is  a  great  commercial,  industrial,  moral, 
and  religious  vortex.  The  produce  of  the  great 
central  plains  of  the  continent  gathers  there  for 
distribution  to  Southern  markets.  Factories 
send  their  wares  out  to  a  varied   population. 


THE  EDGE  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST    191 

The  ethical  ideals  of  South  and  North,  West 
and  East,  there  find  spontaneous  expression. 
The  religious  conceptions  of  foreign-born 
Roman  Catholics,  of  Western  pioneers,  of 
Southern  conservatives,  and  of  New  England 
Puritans  mingle  and  sometimes  blend.  It  was, 
therefore,  almost  inevitable  that  there  I  should 
find  expressed  in  its  most  extreme  foi-m  the 
reaction  from  the  individualism  dominant  and 
relentless  in  the  Southwest.  The  group  of 
men  with  whom  I  lunched  one  day  —  an  editor, 
a  manufacturer,  a  clergyman,  a  librarian,  and  a 
mechanic  (one  a  product  of  the  slums,  another 
of  the  hemp-fields,  another  from  the  East,  an- 
other from  Scandinavia)  — each  unlike  the  others 
in  nativity,  training,  occupation,  and  creed  —  all 
agreed  that  religion  was  something  very  differ- 
ent from  that  which  the  churches  represented; 
that  it  was  wholesome  and  normal  only  as  it 
impelled  men  to  live  more  wholesomely  and 
normally  with  their  fellow-men.  As  one  of 
them  —  it  was  the  editor,  I  think  —  put  it, 
"  The  Bible  begins  in  a  garden  and  ends  in  a 
city.  Not  Eden,  but  the  New  Jerusalem,  is  the 
ideal."  The  "  social  gospel "  was  the  only 
gospel  they  believed  in — the  "two  or  three 
gathered  tog  ethers 


192    THE   EDGE   OF   THE   SOUTHWEST 

One  of  these  men,  whom  I  have  called  a 
mechanic,  began  life  in  Kentucky.  By  his 
parents  he  was  brought  up  to  be  a  stalwart 
"  Disciple."  On  the  corner  of  his  father's 
farm  was  erected  a  meeting-house  of  the 
Disciples,  to  be  a  beacon  in  the  midst  of  a 
region  overwhelmed  by  the  darkness  of  Bap- 
tist error.  He  told  me  that  from  the  time  he 
was  eight  years  of  age  he  carried  about  in  his 
pocket  a  copy  of  the  Kew  Testament  —  not  for 
devotional  reasons,  by  any  means,  but  for  pur- 
poses of  self-defense,  so  that  whenever  he  met 
a  Baptist  he  could  whip  it  out  and  supply  to  his 
adversary  proof-texts  in  support  of  the  faith 
that  was  in  him;  and  valiantly  did  he  wield  this 
sword  of  the  Spirit.  As  he  grew  older  he  left 
the  farm  to  prepare  himself  for  the  ministry  of 
the  Disciples ;  and  at  last  became  a  preacher  in 
full  standing.  After  an  experience  in  various 
pulpits,  he  was  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  the 
churches  were  not  influencing  the  real  workers 
of  the  world  —  or  at  least  of  his  world ;  were 
not  even  acquainted  with  their  lives.  So,  with- 
drawing from  the  ministry  —  not  because  he 
lacked  sympathy  with  the  Church,  but  in  order 
to  be  sure  that  he  would  be  no  burden  to  his 
denomination  —  he  turned  to  manual  labor  as  a 


THE  EDGE  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST     193 

means  of  supporting  his  family.  He  went  into 
Arkansas,  with  a  library  consisting  of  Shake- 
speare, Dante,  Homer,  and  the  Bible,  and 
"farmed  it."  Of  his  life  there  he  had  many 
amusing  stories  to  tell.  From  one  occupation 
to  another  he  went  in  his  search  for  knowledge 
of  humanity.  When  I  met  him,  he  was  an  ap- 
prentice in  a  machine-shop.  In  the  evening  he 
superintended  a  Jewish  social  settlement.  He 
was  president  of  a  society  for  excavating  mam- 
moth remains.  He  told  me  that  one  of  his 
sons,  a  boy  of  sixteen  or  thereabouts,  wanted  to 
keep  a  peanut-stand;  he  gave  his  consent,  and 
the  boy  set  up  his  stand  in  one  of  the  roughest 
places  of  the  city.  He  feared  no  harm  for  his 
son,  because  he  had  faith  in  the  boy's  home 
training,  and  he  believed  his  acquisition  of  real 
knowledge  of  the  city  life  would  do  him  good. 
All  this  time  this  man  has  kept  his  membership 
in  the  little  "  Disciple  "  church  on  his  father's 
farm  in  Kentucky,  has  contributed  to  its  sup- 
port, and  at  least  once  a  year  goes  there  to 
preach.  Never  have  I  met  a  man  who  has 
adjusted  himself  and  has  kept  himself  adjusted 
to  so  many  grades  of  society,  who  has  had  a 
larger  range  of  interests,  and  who  has  had  a 
simpler,  surer  faith.     As  we  strolled  from  one 


194    THE  EDGE   OF  THE  SOUTHWEST 

place  to  another  in  the  city  —  now  in  a  little 
restaurant  where  he  knew  the  propi-ietor  and 
his  family,  now  in  the  "  Refoi-m  Rooms,"  where 
we  argued  with  some  acquaintances  of  his 
about  Socialism  and  Single  Tax,  now  in  one  or 
two  quiet  saloons  which  he  showed  me  as  typi- 
cal "  workingmen's  clubs,"  now  in  the  basement 
lodging-house  of  the  Salvation  Army,  to  which 
we  took  a  poor  deaf  and  dumb  young  fellow  — 
he  kept  throughout  his  imperturbable  spirit,  his 
unchangeable  sanity  of  mind  and  Christian 
feeling. 

It  was  in  St.  Louis,  also,  that  I  met  a  man 
who  had  come  to  this  same  point  by  a  road 
from  an  exactly  opposite  direction.  He  had 
been  a  newsboy  on  the  East  Side  of  'New  York, 
and  afterwards  a  mechanic  in  a  factory.  He, 
too,  saw  that  the  workers  of  his  world  were 
not  known  by  the  churches.  So,  as  one  who 
at  least  knew  the  point  of  view  of  workingmen, 
he  decided  to  become  a  minister,  that  he  might 
bring  the  life  of  Christ  into  the  life  of  artisans 
and  mechanics.  Simple  in  heart  and  very 
modest,  he  would  tell  me  little  about  himself; 
but  on  Easter  evening,  when  I  attended  the 
service  at  his  mission,  joined  the  crowded  con- 
gregation of  the  poor,  heard  his  very  human 


THE  EDGE  OF  THE  SOUTHWEST    195 

account  of  the  death  and  resurrection  of  Jesus, 
listened  to  the  music  rendered  under  the  direc- 
tion of  his  gifted  wife  —  music  that  was  far 
better  in  real  musical  value  than  the  more 
ornate  choral  service  I  had  heard  in  a  wealthy 
uptown  church  that  very  morning  —  and  met 
some  of  his  congregation  after  the  service,  I 
learned  more  from  him  than  he  could  tell,  or 
perhaps  could  know. 

These  two  men  represent  the  hope  of  the 
Southwest  for  a  real  and  a  growing  religious 
Hfe. 


KANSAS 


Yin 

ka:n'SAS 

THE  wide  main  street  of  the  little  city  was 
lined  with  farm  horses  and  wagons,  coated 
up  to  flank  and  hub  with  mud.  It  was  Satur- 
day, and  the  sidewalks  were  crowded  with  farm- 
ers. The  men  and  boys  were  such  as  may  be 
seen  any  day  waiting"  for  the  mail  on  many  a 
village  corner  in  Maine.  They  showed  the 
same  signs  of  clean,  honest  labor  in  the  sun 
and  on  the  soil;  they  had  the  same  set  mouths 
that  can  very  well  say  "  I  will "  or  "  I  won't," 
but  can  convey  that  idea  just  as  well  without 
speaking;  the  same  lines  about  the  eyes  that 
betoken  equal  shrewdness  in  swapping  either 
stories  or  horses;  the  same  bearing  that  suits 
equally  a  hoe  and  a  rifle,  and  that  for  practical 
purposes  has  borne  comparison  with  the  military 
swagger  of  the  Hessian  and  the  Spaniard.     One 

199 


200  KANSAS 

can  generally  recognize  the  veritable  Yankee, 
whether  he  is  raising  potatoes  in  Aroostook 
County,  Maine,  or  making  butter  in  a  valley  of 
the  Catskills,  or  driving  a  reaper  in  a  Western 
wheat-field.  I  saw  scores  of  him  that  dismal 
Saturday  afternoon  in  this  Kansas  town. 

I  had  just  come  into  Kansas  from  Missouri. 
There  was  nothing  to  remind  me  that  I  was  in 
the  same  countr}^  except  the  mud;  but  even 
in  this  respect  there  was  a  difference — in  Kan- 
sas the  mud  was  deeper.  In  the  presence  of 
this  one  ubiquitous  evidence  of  unimproved 
ISTature  it  was  possible  to  understand  why 
Kansans  feel  justified  in  thinking  so  well  of 
themselves.  In  their  State  it  is  only  Nature 
that  is  vile.  Even  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
railroads  everything  that  bears  the  human 
mark  —  house  or  sidewalk,  cultivated  field  or 
shop  —  speaks  of  cleanliness,  order,  and  indus- 
try. Except  for  the  street  lights  of  natural 
gas  (which  it  is  cheaper  to  leave  burning  all 
day  than  to  extinguish  and  relight)  and  the 
scarcity  of  trees,  any  one  of  the  villages  I 
passed  through  would  be  inconspicuous  in  New 
England.  The  nearness  of  Missouri  has  by  its 
contrast  contributed  to  a  certain  self-compla- 
cency   characteristic    of    Kansas.     It    is    the 


KAI^SAS  201 

quality  of  piety  in  Kansas  to  thank  God  that 
you  are  not  as  other  men  are,  beer-drinkers, 
shiftless,  habitually  lynchers,  or  even  as  these 
Missourians;  you  work  six  days  in  the  week, 
and  pay  taxes  rather  than  let  saloons  pay 
licenses. 

Down  the  street  among  these  transplanted 
Yankees,  I  made  my  way  to  the  office  of  a 
lawyer  of  the  city.  Like  other  Kansans,  I 
found  him  thinking  of  religious  life  in  terms 
of  concrete  moral  problems.  He  had  not  a 
word  to  say  about  doctrines.  I  have  actually 
forgotten  to  what  denomination  he  belonged. 
His  strongest  religious  feelings  found  expres- 
sion in  his  support  of  prohibition.  He  argued 
for  it,  not  mainly  on  the  ground  of  expediency, 
but  on  the  ground  of  conscience.  For  this 
reason  his  opinions  were  not  in  the  least  af- 
fected by  the  fact,  which  he  frankly  admitted, 
that  in  some  cities  of  the  State  the  law  was 
openly  violated.  Prohibition  was  essentially 
right,  a  part  of  the  moral  law,  and  had  the 
sanction  of  all  who  supported  religion.  He 
disbelieved  in  the  principle  of  local  option 
because  it  put  the  burden  of  recurrent  agita- 
tion upon  the  "temperance  people";  in  his 
opinion  it  was  unfair  to  put  this  burden  upon 


202  KANSAS 

the  people  who  were  right,  depriving  them  of 
just  so  much  time  from  "  legitimate  business." 
Under  prohibition,  even  unenforced,  the  burden 
of  positive  agitation  was  laid  upon  the  liquor- 
dealers,  who  were  manifestly  wrong,  and  who 
therefore  ought  to  bear  the  burden. 

This  illustrates  the  contrast  between  Kansas 
and  the  contiguous  Southwest.  The  difference 
is  not  that  between  the  dogmatic  and  the  un- 
dogmatic.  In  the  Southwest  religious  life  is 
marked,  as  I  have  described  in  a  previous  arti- 
cle, by  doctrinal  dogmatism.  In  Kansas  re- 
ligious life  is  marked  by  dogmatism  also;  only 
it  is  not  doctrinal,  but  moral.  There  is  another 
difference.  In  the  Southwest  religious  dogma- 
tism is  a  choppy  sea;  for  doctrines  of  one  sect 
conflict  with  the  doctrines  of  another.  In 
Kansas  religious  dogmatism  is  a  strong  cur- 
rent, for  church  people  of  all  names  are  prac- 
tically agreed  as  to  what  moral  courses  are 
unquestionably  Christian.  It  is  true  that 
Kansas  is  not  by  any  means  wholly  free  from 
the  dogmatism  of  creed.  It  is  also  true  that 
one  of  the  most  relentlessly  dogmatic  asser- 
tions as  to  moral  conduct  which  I  have  ever 
heard  was  made  in  Arkansas.  But  in  the  main 
the  "  Higher  Criticism  "  is  the  representative 


KANSAS  203 

heresy  of  the  Southwest,  while  that  of  Kansas 
is  Beer. 

When  I  inquired  what  the  churches  were 
doing  to  supply  a  substitute  for  the  saloon,  I 
could  find  no  positive  information.  As  in  doc- 
trine so  in  morals,  it  is  much  easier  to  combat  a 
heresy  than  to  construct  a  faith.  The  lawyer 
of  whom  I  have  spoken  had  others  to  agree 
with  him  that  in  constructive  moral  effort  the 
churches  were  weak.  Kansas,  however,  is  an 
essentially  rural  State,  and  therefore  does  not 
feel  the  need  of  public  centers  of  social  life. 
Most  boys  in  Kansas,  I  was  told,  can  grow  to 
manhood  without  knowing  what  a  saloon  is. 
The  general  impression  which  I  received  from 
many  people  and  various  experiences  as  to  the 
moral  and  religious  life  in  the  rural  communi- 
ties (which  dominate  the  State)  may  be  ex- 
pressed in  the  words  of  a  business  man,  a 
fellow-townsman  of  the  lawyer : 

"  Some  of  the  young  people  are  leaving  the 
country  —  even  the  best  of  them  —  but  those 
that  remain  on  the  farms  are  doing  well. 
Until  two  or  three  years  ago  there  was  a 
decline  in  prosperity ;  but  now  the  young  men 
have  taken  hold,  and  are  paying  off  debts,  and 
in  an  amazingly  short  time  are  making  great 


204  KANSAS 

profits.  The  churches  are  also  growing;  inter- 
est in  religion  is  increasing.  Often  churches 
are  crowded  —  a  hundred  where  you  might 
expect  forty.  I  think  that  the  hard  financial 
times  were  responsible  for  a  great  deal  that 
was  thought  to  be  dishonest.  Kow,  however, 
moral  life,  in  the  widest  sense,  is  improving. 
Whether  all  this  moral  and  religious  improve- 
ment is  simply  the  result  of  prosperity  or  not 
it  is  hard  to  say,  but  I  believe  it  is  real." 

It  was  a  Presbyterian  minister  who  first  told 
me  that  I  should  find  among  the  Methodists  the 
most  typical  country  churches,  and  introduced 
me  to  a  Methodist  minister,  who  very  kindly 
arranged  a  short  tour  with  a  local  preacher. 
The  dismal  drizzle  of  the  afternoon  turned  into 
rain,  and  when  nine  o'clock  came  with  no  sign 
of  the  local  preacher  I  was  about  to  conclude 
that  weather  did  not  permit.  Just  then,  in  the 
darkness,  the  local  preacher  drove  to  the  door. 
He  was  a  student  from  a  Methodist  college, 
who  spent  his  Sundays  and  vacations  in  minis- 
tering to  the  scattered  population  of  neighbor- 
ing districts. 

"  I  am  afraid  it  will  be  impossible  for  me  to 
take  you  along,"  he  said.  And,  sure  enough, 
the  mud  on  the  wheels  of  his  buggy  banished  all 


KANSAS  205 

thought  of  making  his  pony  draw  us  both. 
Finally,  after  agreeing  to  provide  a  pair  of 
horses  for  the  trip,  and  to  speak  to  his  people 
in  his  place  on  the  morrow  (for  his  reluctance 
to  preach  in  the  presence  of  a  stranger  proved 
to  be  as  much  of  an  obstacle  to  the  plan  as  the 
mud  was),  I  prevailed  upon  him  to  take  me 
with  him.  When  I  expressed  my  hesitation  at 
intruding  myself  on  the  hospitality  of  his  peo- 
ple, he  laughed  me  out  of  my  fears.  Any  one 
of  the  homes  in  his  district,  he  told  me,  was 
always  ready  to  receive  him  at  any  time,  and 
anybody  he  might  happen  to  have  with  him. 
That  was  the  way  he  lived  on  Sundays  and 
during  vacations.  He  had  no  parsonage  or 
regular  boarding-place.  He  had  his  traveling- 
bag,  his  horse,  and  his  buggy.  As  he  drove 
around  the  region,  any  house  near  which  he 
happened  to  be  at  meal-time  or  night  he  would 
make  his  home  for  the  time  being.  This  time, 
he  said,  we  should  stay  at  the  County  Infirm- 
ary (what  in  New  England  is  called  the  Poor 
Farm),  the  superintendent  of  which  was  a  pa- 
rishioner of  his.  So  off  we  drove  our  hired 
horses  through  the  dark,  with  no  sign  of  road 
on  the  flat  country  to  guide  us ;  except  as  we 
felt  the  jar  of  turning  out  of  the  deep  ruts, 


206  KANSAS 

there  was  nothing  to  indicate  that  we  were  not 
driving  over  a  pathless  prairie. 

At  last  the  gleam  of  light  from  the  Infirmary 
reached  us  through  the  darkness.  At  the  door 
we  were  warmly  bidden  welcome.  The  Super- 
intendent was  a  tall,  well-knit  man,  clean  shaven ; 
his  face  would  have  satisfied  Rembrandt.  He 
had  been  a  veritable  pioneer.  Starting  from  the 
East  in  his  boyhood,  he  went  westward  by 
degrees,  always  keeping  just  ahead  of  the  rail- 
road until  it  overtook  him  in  Kansas ;  there  he 
settled  for  life.  It  was  the  incidental  in  his 
narrative,  which  he  told  with  a  certain  quiet 
dignity  that  was  very  convincing,  that  expressed, 
more  forcibly  than  any  explicit  statement  could 
express,  his  stalwart  faith.  And  as  he  told  little 
tales  and  anecdotes  about  the  inmates  of  the  poor- 
house  and  about  the  unfortunates  who  applied 
there  from  time  to  time  for  food  and  shelter,  his 
religious  feeling  showed  the  sort  of  tenderness 
and  human  sympathy  that  is  possible  only  in 
the  most  virile  natures.  Ilis  view  of  the  pres- 
ent religious  conditions  in  his  State  was  most 
hopeful;  his  confidence  in  the  character  of  the 
younger  generation  was  buoyant.  In  this 
respect  he  was  representative  of  almost  all 
whom  I  met  in  Kansas.     The  New  England 


KANSAS  207 

country  Yankee  is  apt  to  be  a  religious  hypo- 
chondriac ;  he  spiritually  "  enjoys  poor  health" ; 
he  is  reminiscent  of  the  good  old  times,  and 
finds  a  doleful  pleasure  in  predicting  general 
religious  catastrophe.  The  Kansas  Yankee  — 
such  is  the  force  of  environment  —  is  his  direct 
opposite.  When,  for  instance,  my  host  the 
Superintendent  told  of  the  days  of  the  anti- 
slavery  struggle,  his  eyes  brightened  and  he 
drew  himself  together  as  if  ready  for  a  renewal 
of  it;  but  when  he  spoke  of  the  young  peo- 
ple of  his  acquaintance  and  their  efforts  and 
achievements,  he  showed  in  his  quiet  way  even 
greater  assurance  and  enthusiasm. 

Sunday  broke  clear  and  sunny.  We  had 
three  miles  or  so  to  drive  to  Wesley  Chapel. 
[N^ever  have  I  seen  such  mud.  The  ruts  were 
no  deeper  simply  because  the  hubs  refused  to 
let  the  wheels  sink  lower.  When  we  were  yet 
a  mile  from  the  chapel  there  was  a  snap,  and 
the  horses  stopped  with  a  jerk.  The  whiffle- 
tree  had  broken.  In  a  few  minutes  my  com- 
panion, the  local  preacher,  had  the  fracture 
bound  with  a  strap  from  my  camera-case. 
When  we  resumed  our  journey,  I  inquired 
whether,  with  the  road  in  such  condition,  it  was 
worth  while  to  go  on.     Would  there  be  any- 


208  KANSAS 

body  there?  I  was  assured  there  would  be  a 
very  fair-sized  congregation.  But  there  was 
no  village  or  settlement  near  by?  No;  the 
people  lived  in  isolated  farm-houses.  AVhen 
the  chapel  came  into  view,  I  could  see  horses 
and  wagons  standing  near  it;  and  when  we 
approached  it,  I  discovered  that  they  lined  the 
road  on  either  side  for  several  rods.  Among 
them  were  several  saddled  horses.  The  con- 
gregation within  the  little  chapel  was  by  no 
means  a  small  one.  There  was  a  surprisingly 
large  proportion  of  young  people.  There  was 
also  a  conspicuously  large  proportion  of  men. 
In  decorum  and  in  intelligent  attention  the 
congregation  was  remarkably  superior  to  the 
ordinary  country  congregation  of  IN^ew  England. 
Upon  inquiry  after  service  I  learned  that,  with 
the  exception  of  the  members  of  one  household 
who  had  walked  from  their  home  half  a  mile 
distant,  all  in  this  congregation  had  driven  or 
ridden  —  many  of  them  for  three  miles  or  more 
—  over  those  wretched  roads.  I  never  heard  of 
a  present-day  New  England  community  which 
could  match  that.  Yet  I  was  convinced  by 
many  kinds  of  testimony  that  this  was  by  no 
means  a  remarkable  Kansas  community. 

We   were    entertained,  together    with    two 


KANSAS  209 

other  guests — one  of  them  the  son  of  a  "Pro- 
fessor of  Typewriting" — in  the  neighboring 
tiny  and  rather  primitive  farm-house.  The 
rotary  cream  separator  in  the  dining-room  be- 
tokened the  progressive  farmer.  Sunday  was 
evidently  no  bugbear  to  the  three  small  boys  of 
the  family.  The  Sunday  atmosphere  of  this 
home  that  day  was  surcharged  with  a  very 
wholesome,  happy  spirit.  Perhaps  the  result 
can  best  be  described  by  saying  that  it  was  a 
combination  of  Puritanism  and  the  prairie. 

The  trait  of  expectancy,  if  it  may  be  so  called, 
which  is  characteristic  of  the  religious  feeling  I 
noticed  in  the  distinctively  rural  portions  of 
the  State,  was  equally  marked  in  its  colleges. 
Kansas  is  dotted  with  colleges,  mainly,  of 
course,  denominational.  In  them  the  churches 
exert  an  influence  very  much  concentrated,  and 
at  scarcely  one  remove.  Under  these  circum- 
stances it  is  not  to  be  expected  that  education 
would  result  as  yet  in  skepticism,  and  until  the 
skeptical  spirit  appears  there  is  nothing  in  Kan- 
sas to  attack  the  spirit  of  religious  hopefulness. 
The  State  University  is  an  exception  in  that  it 
has  a  reputation  for  irreligion.  So  far  as  I 
could  ascertain,  this  reputation  has  been  fos- 
tered mainly  by  the   denominational   colleges, 


210  KANSAS 

most  of  which  find  the  State  University  a  for- 
midable competitor,  and  is  undeserved.  Justi- 
fication, however,  for  that  reputation  was  many 
times  offered  to  me  on  the  ground  that  in  the 
University  at  Lawrence  there  was  no  compul- 
sory chapel,  and  that  the  churches  were  not 
moved  by  self-interest,  as  in  the  case  of  denom- 
inational colleges,  to  make  the  religious  training 
of  the  students  their  business.  My  visit  to  the 
University  of  Kansas,  brief  though  it  was,  en- 
abled me  to  see  that  these  two  facts  were  quite 
as  favorable  as  detrimental  to  religion.  The 
optional  system  of  chapel  attendance,  so  both 
officers  and  students  testified,  had  operated  to 
create  sincerity  and  spontaneity  in  religious  life. 
I  admit  that  I  possibly  gave  credence  to  this 
testimony  the  more  readily  because  it  accorded 
with  my  previous  conviction;  but  that,  of 
course,  does  not  alter  in  the  least  the  fact  of 
the  testimony.  As  to  the  influence  of  the 
churches  upon  the  life  of  the  students,  it  was 
evident  that  the  relation  between  the  University 
and  the  churches,  as  described  to  me,  was  closer 
there  than  I  had  found  to  exist  in  any  college 
town  I  had  then  visited  on  this  trip.  The  fact, 
as  reported  to  me,  that  during  the  summer,  when 
the  students  had  left  for  the  vacation,  a  nmnber 


KANSAS  211 

of  the  churches  were  seriously  weakened,  was 
creditable  alike  to  the  churches  and  to  the  Uni- 
versity. 

Illustrative  of  the  spontaneity  of  the  students' 
religious  life  was  the  character  of  the  Univer- 
sity Young  Men's  Christian  Association.  A 
benefactor  of  the  University  had  given  the  As- 
sociation two  small  brick  houses.  With  these 
in  its  possession  the  Association  wisely  saw  its 
opportunity  to  supply  a  need  that  the  lack  of 
dormitories  occasioned;  so  it  decided  to  make 
of  its  "plant,"  not  the  ordinary  Association 
rooms,  but  club-houses  similar  to  those  main- 
tained by  college  fraternities.  In  order,  how- 
ever, to  avoid  the  formation  of  a  religious-social 
clique,  the  managers,  with  evident  tact,  chose  as 
residents  representative  students  of  the  Univer- 
sity. As  the  rooms  were  in  every  way  desirable,  the 
beneficial  effect  of  this  broad-minded  policy  was 
immediately  felt.  As  a  consequence,  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association  became  a  leading 
factor  in  the  development  of  the  entire  college 
life;  and  religion,  far  from  being  accepted  as  a 
separate  segment  in  the  life  of  the  University, 
has  become  identified  with  whole someness  in 
athletics  and  other  recreation  and  with  sound- 
ness  of   scholarship.      The   Young  Women's 


212  KANSAS 

Christian  Association  has  likewise  achieved 
leadership  in  the  life  of  the  women  of  the  Uni- 
versity. The  officers  of  this  Association  whom 
I  met  united  with  their  ingenuous  religious 
earnestness  rare  personal  charm,  while  the  rep- 
resentatives of  the  Young  Men's  Christian  As- 
sociation were  thoroughly  vigorous  fellows, 
who  bore  none  of  the  familiar  pietistic  scars  on 
their  Christian  faith. 

The  man  who,  of  all  whom  I  met  in  Kansas, 
seemed  to  have  the  best- formulated  understand- 
ing of  the  State  was  a  professor  in  a  Congre- 
gational college.  A  native  of  the  East,  a 
graduate  of  Yale,  he  looked  at  facts  in  their 
perspective.  After  my  talk  with  him  I  was 
more  than  ever  impressed  with  the  truth  that 
the  present  religious  and  moral  character  of 
Kansas  was  only  the  persistence  of  the  temper 
that  was  wrought  into  the  people  during  the 
days  of  Eli  Thayer's  Emigrant  Company,  the 
Wakarusa  War,  and  the  Lecompton  Constitu- 
tion. The  settlers  of  the  State  had  for  their 
purpose  primarily  to  make,  not  a  fertile  soil 
fruitful,  but  an  unsettled  soil  free.  They  were 
not  content  with  talking  about  anti-slavery; 
they  were  first  of  all  intent  on  doing  something 
to  resist  slavery's  encroachments.     To-day  the 


KANSAS  213 

same  spirit  exists.  Even  the  most  talkative 
Kansas  idealist  —  and  the  talkative  one  in  my 
experience  was  an  exception  —  can  always  be 
found  to  have  his  idealism  firmly  fastened  to  a 
peg  driven  deep  in  the  earth.  The  Beecher 
Bible  and  Rifle  Company  still  in  the  spirit 
hovers  over  Kansas  like  the  horses  and  chariots 
of  fire  round  about  Elisha. 

An  opportunity  I  valued  highly  was  afforded 
me  in  a  conversation  with  a  man  who  through 
his  position  had  intimate  acquaintance  with  the 
intellectual,  moral,  and  religious  life  of  the  State. 
He  was  full  of  racy  and  brisk  expressions. 

"You  cannot  understand  Kansas  without 
seeing  a  railroad  map  of  the  State.  The  Santa 
Fe  system  is  spread  out  like  fingers;  it  has  the 
State  under  its  hand.  That  is  Kansas  to-day. 
But  when  I  was  eight  years  old,  Topeka  was 
nothing  but  straggling,  scrawny  topography. 
The  Santa  Fe  may  not  be  a  moral  force,  but  it 
explains  the  State.  Scarcely  more  than  a  gen- 
eration ago  the  only  inhabitants  here  were 
wolves,  prairie-dogs,  and  grasshoppers.  Why, 
every  tree  that  you  see  anywhere  here  is  an  ar- 
tificial product."  I  thought  of  the  shady  lawn- 
bordered  streets  of  Lawrence.  "Every  brick 
and  pavement  that  goes  down,  every  board  that 


214  KANSAS 

you  see,  has  come  from  outside  the  State.  We 
haven't  centuries  behind  us.  We  are  a  thing 
of  yesterday,  and  not  very  early  in  the  morning, 
either.  We  haven't  had  time  to  do  anything 
but  build  our  'plant.'  Men  haven't  had  time 
to  formulate  their  ideas;  even  in  towns  they 
think  more  about  plows  than  anything  else. 
And  we  are  still  in  the  process.  Almost  any 
day  you  will  see  a  little  house  on  wheels  being 
moved  out  to  the  edge  of  the  city.  It  has  been 
sold  to  a  negro;  the  man  who  built  it  is  busy 
putting  up  a  better  one  in  its  place.  But  when 
the  time  for  settling  intellectual  problems  comes, 
they  will  be  settled  wholesomely,  not  tackled  in 
the  mulish  fashion  as  in  Missouri.  There's  too 
much  beer  in  Missouri;  they  work  there  too 
much  in  the  breeching.  That's  another  handi- 
cap. We're  behind  Missouri,  a  big,  hulking 
barrier  between  here  and  the  East,  and  every- 
thing comes  through  or  around.  On  the  other 
side  Kansas  has  turned  mother  for  the  free 
lands  of  Oklahoma.  The  western  part  of  Kan- 
sas, besides,  is  like  another  State  —  mostly  un- 
inhabited. Crops  there  are  uncertain.  Curious 
weeds  grow  there  that  drop  round  seed-balls 
that  are  rolled  along  by  the  wind.  You  see  a 
line  of  these  roUing  weeds  moving  steadily  over 


KANSAS  215 

the  ground,  like  a  line  of  cavalry,  until  they 
come  bump  against  a  wire  fence.  They  look 
like  kobolds  and  trolls  of  the  under- world ;  they 
start  you  into  uncontrollable  laughter  like  that 
of  Homer's  gods.  It  is  the  eastern  part  of  the 
State  that  is  the  real  Kansas."  Mr.  Sheldon, 
who  gained  wide  repute  a  few  years  ago  as 
setting  forth  the  question,  "  "What  would  Jesus 
do?"  as  the  supreme  interest  of  the  Christian, 
he  cited  as  typical  of  the  State.  "  As  soon  as 
Mr.  Sheldon  gets  the  tugs  on  he  wants  to  get 
them  hitched  to  a  cart  filled  with  'niggers' 
from  Tennesseetown.  He  wants  to  switch  men 
off  from  speculative  questions  to  the  practical — 
from  '  are  there  few  to  be  saved?'  to  '  strive  to 
enter  in  at  the  strait  gate.'  It's  a  mean  man 
that  would  suspect  his  motives." 

This  I  found  corroborated  in  the  brief  inter- 
view I  had  with  Mr.  Sheldon.  Personally  he 
was  extremely  modest,  but  in  his  moral  convic- 
tions absolutely  confident  as  to  just  what  Jesus 
would  drink,  just  how  Jesus  would  conduct  a 
newspaper  or  manage  a  church.  Indeed,  he  has 
the  courage  of  his  convictions,  and  has  been 
willing  to  undertake  to  show  to  others  by  his 
own  actions  just  what  particular  things  the 
Christian   life   involves.      In    Kansas    this    is 


210  KANSAS 

saved  from  being  pharisaism  by  the  fact  that 
Kansas  people  think  in  the  concrete  and  accept 
this  method  as  the  normal  way  of  expressing 
truth. 

There  is  nothing  abstract  about  Kansas.  Even 
ideality  there  becomes  concrete.  There  are 
signs  of  an  approaching  time  when  Christianity 
there  will  be  identified  with  motive  and  spirit 
rather  than  with  precept.  In  the  meantime 
those  ministers  and  laymen  who  are  magnifying 
specific  reforms  as  the  substance  of  Christianity 
are  serving  a  highly  useful  purpose,  for  they 
are  using  concrete  terms,  which  everybody  who 
hears  them  understands,  and  making  them 
religious. 


THE   EASTERIS^  WEST 


IX 

THE  EASTERN  WEST 

WHAT  is  your  impression  of  our  State?" 
was  the  question  asked  of  me  in  almost 
every  State  I  visited.  To  that  question  I  for- 
mulated no  answer  until  I  came  to  Iowa.  There, 
after  I  was  assured  that  my  frank  opinion  was 
desired,  I  was  ready  to  answer  in  one  word  — 
"  Monotony." 

"  Yes,"  came  the  reply ;  "  we  lowans  believe 
in  the  virtue  of  uniforTnity.'^'^ 

Although  I  accepted  the  rebuke  as  to  choice 
of  words,  I  secretly  continued  to  think  Iowa 
somewhat  monotonous  as  well  as  merely  uniform. 
Granting,  however,  the  modification  in  language 
which  the  rebuke  suggests,  I  believe  that  that 
answer  can  be  applied,  in  somewhat  less  degree, 
to  the  religious  life  of  all  that  part  of  the  coun- 
try called  the  Middle  West.     True  religion  and 

219 


220  THE   EASTERN   WEST 

undefiled,  in  the  eyes  of  the  dwellers  in  that 
part  of  the  West,  is  to  conform  to  certain  stan- 
dards of  thought  and  conduct.  Such  religion 
is  displayed  in  the  services  of  the  churches. 
Among  Episcopalian  churches,  on  the  one  hand, 
ritualism  flourishes;  in  non-ritualistic  churches, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  thrives  an  equally 
strong  conventionality,  though  of  opposite  ap- 
pearance. The  surplice  is  inadequately  replaced 
by  the  white  tie ;  the  vaulted  nave  by  the  semi- 
circular auditorium  with  opera-chairs;  images 
of  the  saints  by  blackboards,  maps,  and  stereop- 
ticon  screens;  Gregorian  tones  by  an  easily 
recognizable  type  of  anthems  furnished  by  pub- 
lishing houses  at  so  much  a  month.  These  and 
other  like  symbols  of  religion  which  I  might 
name  are  not  all  found  in  every  church,  but 
they  might  be  combined  to  form  an  ideal  to 
which  most  of  the  churches  which  I  saw  are 
tending.  In  religious  thinking,  too,  conformity 
is  the  rule.  The  questioning  spirit  which  will 
not  down  even  in  the  Southwest  exists  also  in 
this  land  of  broad  acres  and  growing  cities,  but 
it  is  on  the  defensive.  When  it  becomes  too 
active,  it  crystallizes  into  one  of  numerous  new 
and  strange  sects,  of  which  the  land  yields  more 
than  its  share,  and  ceases  to  have  any  portion  in 


THE   EASTERN  WEST  221 

religion  pure  and  undefiled.  Eloquence,  of  a 
sort  that  must  meet  the  test  of  the  summer  as- 
sembly platforms  which  are  within  reach  of  most 
of  the  people,  rather  than  thought,  is  the  pri- 
mary essential  in  making  a  sermon  acceptable. 
The  successful  minister  must  have  business  en- 
terprise. The  preacher  who  "  warms  up  to  his 
subject"  and  is  efficient  in  raising  a  debt 
"  challenges  admiration." 

The  most  illuminating  comments  made  to  me 
on  these  conditions  were  those  of  a  young 
clergyman  who  understood  them  better  than 
either  most  visitors  to  the  Middle  West,  who 
have  perspective  but  no  sympathy,  or  most 
dwellers  in  the  Middle  West,  who  have  sym- 
pathy but  no  perspective.  This  clergy- 
man understood  these  conditions  sympatheti- 
cally, because  his  early  life  had  been  spent 
among  them ;  but  he  had  gained  perspective  by 
his  course  of  study  in  the  East  and  in  Germany, 
and  his  successful  ministry  in  the  pioneer  re- 
gions of  the  Northwest. 

"  In  my  little  church,"  he  said  to  me,  "  I  have 
the  attention  and  support  of  the  thinking  peo- 
ple; but  that  is  not  enough.  When  you  divide 
a  small  church  like  this,  you've  weakened  your 
working  force.     One  of  my  deacons  told  me 


222  THE   EASTERN   WEST 

that  the  trouble  with  my  sermons  was  that  I 
didn't  get  ' hot  under  the  collar'!"  The  fact 
that  this  deacon,  a  representative  man  in  the 
community,  could  not  see  the  grotesqueness  of 
his  suggestion  that  a  man  of  such  absolute  sin- 
cerity and  real  earnestness  as  his  minister  should 
work  himself  up  into  a  pseudo-oratorical  dis- 
play, was  of  itself  enough  to  explain  why 
thoughtful  earnestness  and  open-minded  sin- 
cerity are  not  (to  use  an  appropriate  commercial 
phrase)  a  very  valuable  ministerial  asset  nowa- 
days in  the  Middle  West. 

The  combination  of  formalism  and  enterprise, 
of  conventionality  and  "  hustle,"  is  what  gives 
distinctive  character  to  this  large  region  which 
may  be  called  the  Eastern  West.  It  has  come 
into  its  enterprise  by  inheritance,  for  not  long 
ago  it  was  pioneer  country.  But  with  the 
years  its  unconventional  manners  have  become 
stereotyped  and  developed  into  new  conventions. 
The  nonconformist  has  made  of  his  noncon- 
formity a  new  conformity.  It  is  the  history  over 
again  of  the  Protestant  freeing  himself  from  an 
infallible  Church  only  to  set  up  in  its  place  an 
infallible  Bible  —  of  the  Puritan  fleeing  from 
an  estabhshed  Church  in  England  only  to  set 
up  an  establishment  of  his  own  in  America. 


THE   EASTERN   WEST  223 

So  far  as  this  conventionalizing  process  ad- 
vanced that  it  ah^eady  bears  some  of  the  marks 
which  a  similar  process  in  the  East  bears.  In 
several  small  towns  of  Illinois  and  Iowa  I  heard 
stories  of  the  decrease  of  young  people,  of 
moral  and  religious  indifference  and  even  de- 
generation, and  of  what  may  be  called  anaemic 
civilization,  which  bore  very  close  likeness  to 
what  I  had  observed  in  small  towns  and  vil- 
lages of  'New  England.  The  star  of  empire,  as 
it  makes  its  way  to  the  westward,  seems  to  be  a 
comet,  and  its  tail  is  convention.^ 

An  extreme  case  of  this  combination  of  con- 
ventionality and  "  hustle "  was  a  service  I  at- 
tended in  a  United  Presbyterian  church.  As 
is  well  known,  the  people  of  this  denomination 
are  extremely  conservative  in  their  theology. 
The  one  distinctive  tenet,  however,  for  which 

1  In  a  letter  concerning  this  statement,  a  minister  of  the  Middle  West 
declares  that  he  knows  of  no  section  in  which  the  churches  are  "  more  free 
from  convention  than  in  this  very  region,"  and  adds,  in  support  of  his 
statement,  that  the  churches  there  are  "  ready  for  new  ideas  and  new 
methods."  In  other  words,'this  minister  expresses  the  not  uncommon  idea 
—  especially  prevalent  in  the  Middle  West  —  that  enterprise  is  equivalent  to 
unconventionality.  This,  of  course,  is  to  confound  conventionalism  with 
traditionalism.  Traditionalism  is  conformity  to  a  usage  or  an  idea  because 
it  is  sanctioned  by  age;  conventionalism's  conformity  to  a  usage  or  an  idea 
because  it  is  sanctioned  by  general  concurrence.  One  of  the  ways  in  which 
conventionalism  shows  itself  is  in  extreme  readiness  to  adopt  novelties.  An 
ultra-fashionable  woman  adopts  a'new  fashion  without  regard  to  its  intrinsic 
beauty  because  she  is  conventional ;  she  adopts  it  when  it  first  makes  its  ap- 
pearance because  she  is  also  enterprising.  Similarly  some  of  the  most  enter- 
prising churches  are  also  the  most  conventional. 


224  THE   EASTERN  WEST 

they  are  most  generally  known  is  their  belief 
that  no  hymns  should  be  used  in  divine  wor- 
ship— none  but  the  Psalms  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. The  argument  is  something  like  this: 
The  Psalter  is  incomparably  the  best  hymn-book 
ever  written;  the  exclusive  use  of  it  bars  out 
trivial  and  sectarian  hymns;  and,  more  than 
all,  God  has  commanded  its  use,  or,  in  the 
words  of  one  of  the  denomination's  accredited 
defenders,  "  Doesn't  it  look  like  God  had  given 
us  a  hymn-book  to  sing  from  as  well  as  a  Bible 
to  preach  from,  and  that  we  have  no  more  right 
to  supplant  the  one  than  the  other  with  a  book 
of  our  own  composing?  "  Therefore  only  the 
inspired  language  of  the  Psalms  should  be  used 
in  singing  praise  to  God.  In  this  church  which 
I  attended  the  hymn-book  was  made  up  of  met- 
rical versions  of  the  Psalms  set  to  tunes  gener- 
ally familiar  in  most  American  churches.  The 
service,  except  for  the  hymns,  was  in  no  way 
remarkable.  The  pastor  of  the  church  was  a 
young  man,  eminent  in  his  denomination,  so  I 
was  told,  for  one  of  his  years.  His  sermon 
was  on  the  deity  of  Christ,  and  consisted  of  a 
series  of  coordinate  propositions,  each  purport- 
ing to  prove  his  main  point  and  each  supported 
by  Scripture  texts,  which  he  quoted  and  cited 


THE   EASTERN   WEST  225 

by  chapter  and  verse  as  a  lawyer  cites  cases  in 
addressing  the  judge.  His  citations  averaged 
about  one  a  minute,  l^ow  for  the  evidence  of 
business  enterprise.  When  the  notices  had 
been  given  out,  the  pastor  placed  a  blackboard 
beside  the  pulpit  and  announced  that  he  wanted 
one  hundred  dollars  raised  that  morning.  He 
then  wrote  "  $100 "  on  the  blackboard  and 
waited  for  contributions.  A  man  in  the  con- 
gregation rose  and  stated  that  he  would  give 
ten  dollars.  The  minister  thereupon  announced 
the  man's  name,  drew  a  line  through  the  "$100," 
and  wrote  underneath  "  $90."  The  first  pledge 
proved  to  be  the  largest.  With  each  pledge 
thereafter  the  minister  placed  a  new  figure  on 
the  board,  indicating  at  each  step  the  amount  yet 
needed.  "When  the  last  dollar  was  crossed  off, 
the  minister  continued  the  service,  and  at  the 
end  of  his  sermon  called  on  the  man  who  had 
subscribed  ten  dollars  to  lead  in  prayer.  In  the 
Sunday-school  as  in  the  church  service,  metrical 
versions  of  the  inspired  Psalms  were  exclusively 
sung,  but  the  music  set  to  them  was  as  unin- 
spired as  those  which  any  hack  writer  of  Sun- 
day-school jingles  ever  perpetrated.  There 
being  no  infalHble  standard  of  divine  music, 
there  seemed  to  be  no  need  of  following  any 


226  THE   EASTERN   WEST 

standard  whatever.  The  brisk  competition  of 
other  Sunday-schools  evidently  had  to  be  met. 
Less  traditional  and  more  enterprising  was 
another  church  in  the  same  city  —  the  "  Central 
Church  of  Christ,"  colloquially  called  "  Camp- 
bellite,"  much  to  the  displeasure  of  its  members. 
This  denomination,  variously  known  also  as 
"  Christians  "  and  "  Disciples,"  ^  is  one  of  the 
most  aggressive  of  all  religious  bodies  in  the 
United  States.  In  the  city  to  which  I  have 
just  referred,  the  Congregationalists  had  "  the 
start,"  but  their  numbers,  so  I  was  told,  had 
actually  decreased;  the  Disciples,  on  the  other 
hand,  had  established  ten  churches  in  eleven 

1  It  is  not  my  purpose  in  this  book  to  go  into  denominational  distinc- 
tions ;  but  in  the  case  of  this  denomination  it  is  almost  imperative  to 
do  so.  The  name  "  Campbellite "  is  distasteful  to  those  to  whom  it  is 
applied,  because  they  claim  to  be  followers,  not  of  a  man,  but  of  the  New 
Testament.  They  therefore  want  no  distinctive  name,  desiring  to  be 
known  only  as  Christians,  Disciples  of  Christ,  and  as  constituting 
Churches  of  Christ.  The  fact,  however,  that  others,  who  repudiate  this 
movement  started  by  Alexander  Campbell  and  hold  rather  to  the  teach- 
ing of  a  man  by  the  name  of  Stone,  have  the  desire  to  be  similarly 
known  makes  it  necessary  to  use  a  distinctive  name.  Inasmuch  as  the 
feeling  between  the  followers  of  Stone  and  the  followers  of  Campbell 
is  intense  to  the  degree  of  bitterness  (as  may  easily  be  discovered  by  reading 
the  journals  of  either  sect),  the  terms  "  Campbellite  "  on  the  one  hand,  and 
"  Stonite  "  or  "  New  Light  "  on  the  other,  have  naturally  arisen,  and  form 
convenient  denominational  designations.  It  would  be  easier  to  use  a  more 
acceptable  name  if  either  party  had  a  uniform  use  as  to  name.  The  fact  is, 
however,  that  the  denomination  called  "  Campbellite"  is,  for  instance,  in 
Ohio  called  "Disciples,"  in  Illinois  "Christians,"  in  Iowa  "  Church  of 
Christ " !  yet  it  is  not  three  denominations,  but  one  denomination. 
"  Campbellite  "  is  the  only  distinctive  title  that  applies  to  the  denomination 
everywhere.  In  this  chapter  I  shall  use  the  term  "  Disciples,"  though  it  is 
neither  distinctive  nor  universal. 


THE  EASTERN  WEST  227 

years,  and  they  were  then  all  flourishing.  The 
spirit  of  the  Disciple  ministers  may  be  indicated 
by  an  anecdote  told  me  by  one  of  them  about 
another.  The  clergyman  was  asked  whether 
he  were  pastor  of  the  biggest  Protestant  church 
in  the  country.  He  replied,  "  I  don't  know  and 
don't  care;  I  wish  simply  to  be  a  servant."  A 
few  moments  later  he  was  asked  what  the  mem- 
bership of  his  church  was.  He  replied  instantly : 
"  Two  thousand  three  hundred  and  fifty-one 
this  morning!"  The  growth  of  the  Disciples 
cannot  be  explained  altogether  by  this  eager- 
ness for  numbers,  for,  though  it  is  especially 
characteristic  of  this  denomination,  it  is  very 
evident  in  other  denominations  —  not  least 
among  Congregationalists.  Keither  can  this 
growth  be  attributed  to  the  denomination's 
polity,  for  each  local  church  of  the  Disciples, 
like  each  local  church  of  the  Congregational- 
ists, is  supreme  law  unto  itself.  It  can  only  be 
attributed  to  the  spirit  of  the  Disciples,  which 
may  be  termed  parochial  unselfishness.  Among 
Congregationalists  the  local  church  is  preemi- 
nently living  unto  itself.  It  may,  and  usually 
does,  give  largely  to  missions,  but  its  chief 
interest  is  in  its  own  prosperity.  A  small 
Congregational  church  almost  invariably  feels 


228  THE  EASTERN  WEST 

the  competition,  rather  than  the  assistance, 
of  a  neighboring  rich  church  of  its  own  de- 
nomination. Its  organist,  if  markedly  effi- 
cient, is  likely  to  receive  from  the  richer 
church  the  offer  of  an  increased  salary;  its 
social  life  is  likely  to  suffer  in  comparison  with 
the  very  distinct  social  life  of  its  more  elegant 
neighbor;  its  activities  are  likely  to  conflict 
with  the  activities  of  the  church  with  larger 
resources.  The  parish  of  the  larger  Congrega- 
tional church  is  seldom  determined  by  geograph- 
ical lines,  but  usually  extends  into  the  domains 
of  other  and  smaller  churches  of  its  own  de- 
nomination. This  parochial  selfishness  of  Con- 
gregational churches  is  not  by  any  means 
confined  to  the  Middle  West;  I  could  cite 
cases  of  it  which  I  have  observed  in  every  part 
of  the  country  I  have  visited  where  Congrega- 
tional churches  abound;  but  it  is  peculiarly 
noticeable  where  it  stands  in  contrast  with  the 
parochial  unselfishness  of  those  which  may  be 
denoted  by  the  rather  inaccurate  term  Disciple 
churches.  The  Central  Church  of  Christ  is  a 
marked  example  of  this  parochial  unselfishness 
and  its  reward.  Each  of  the  other  ten  churches 
of  the  denomination  has  been  organized  by 
members  of  the  Central  Church,  and  by  the 


THE   EASTERN   WEST  229 

assistance  of  that  church  has  become  a  new 
center  for  the  activity  of  Disciples.  As  the 
pastor  of  the  church  said  to  me,  "  I  could  have 
had  three  thousand  members  here,  but  I  could 
not  have  done  anything  with  them.  This 
church  is  really  stronger  because  it  mothers 
other  churches."  While  this  Central  Church 
has  grown  from  380  to  1600  in  sixteen  years, 
the  total  number  of  Disciples  in  the  city  has 
increased  from  380  to  5300  in  that  time.  As  a 
consequence,  this  small  army  of  Disciples  pre- 
sents a  solid  front,  while  the  other  denomina- 
tions are  periodically  stirred  up  over  their 
"  proselyting." 

At  the  time  I  was  in  the  city,  the  periodical 
embroilment  had  just  been  created  by  the  pres- 
ence of  a  Disciple  evangelist.  Just  "  to  show 
that  there  was  no  hard  feeling "  the  ministers 
of  the  city  invited  this  evangelist  to  address 
them  at  their  weekly  Monday  meeting.  Begin- 
ning his  address  with  pleasant  generalities 
about  the  unity  of  the  Church,  he  skillfully  led 
up  to  an  argument  in  justification  of  the  dis- 
tinctive tenets  as  to  church  union  held  by  his 
denomination.  By  this  flank  movement  the  pa- 
rade-ground seemed  suddenly  transformed  into 
a  battlefield.     Before  the  opposing  forces  had 


230  THE   EASTERN  WEST 

time  to  rally,  he  made  a  new  attack  with  the 
weapon  of- prayer,  beseeching  the  Lord  that  the 
assembled  ministers  should  not  seek  to  save 
their  own  souls,  but  only  those  of  others.  There- 
upon, apparently  in  order  to  meet  this  last  at- 
tack first,  some  one  started  the  hymn, 

A  charge  to  keep  I  have, 

A  God  to  glorify  ; 
A  never-dying  soul  to  save, 

And  fit  it  for  the  sky. 

Then,  as  if  to  protest  that  this  was,  after  all, 
only  a  sham  battle,  some  one  else  started 

Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds 
Our  hearts  in  Christian  love. 

After  the  hymns  the  meeting  adjourned,  the 
Disciple  theological  students,  who  were  there  in 
some  numbers  to  support  their  champion,  exult- 
ing over  the  "  vindication  "  of  their  undenomina- 
tional denomination,  the  ministers  generally  dis- 
cussing their  helplessness  when  such  tactics 
were  employed. 

This  Central  Church  of  Christ,  besides  beget- 
ting a  large  family  of  churches,  has  shown  more 
activity  within  its  own  parish  than  any  other 
church  of  the  city.     I  called  on  its  pastor  in  his 


THE   EASTEEN  WEST  231 

office  —  rather  than  study  —  in  the  "  Institute  " 
connected,  organically  and  locally,  with  the 
church.  He  was  sitting  at  a  roll-top  desk,  on 
which  there  rested  a  telephone.  Several  times 
while  I  was  there  he  had  to  excuse  himself  to 
answer  the  bell  and  converse  with  some  one  who 
needed  his  advice  or  other  assistance.  Each 
time,  as  he  hung  up  the  receiver,  he  would  turn 
to  me  and  resume  the  conversation,  where  it  had 
been  interrupted,  with  businesslike  clearness 
and  incisiveness.  Many  little  incidents  revealed 
his  almost  detective-like  capacity  for  getting  at 
facts,  understanding  situations,  and  "  sizing  up  " 
men.  He  afforded  another  of  the  many  illus- 
trations of  the  truth  that  religious  life,  like  all 
other  life,  is  determined  more  by  personality 
than  by  methods  or  doctrines  or  anything  else. 
He  showed  himself  at  once  a  profound  sympa- 
thizer with  all  who  are  feeling  the  pressure  of 
hard  social  conditions,  and  a  keen  questioner  as 
to  the  duty  of  the  Church  toward  the  relief  of 
those  conditions.  That  he  had  practical  methods 
for  getting  acquainted  with  the  views  of  organ- 
ized laboring  men,  and  of  employers  and  busi- 
ness men,  he  showed  by  the  letters  he  had 
received,  the  questions  he  had  circulated  for 
information,  and  the  topics  he  had  preached  on. 


232  THE   EASTEKN   WEST 

His  church  was  evidently  a  busy  one.  A  lay 
assistant  was  in  charge  every  day  all  day  long. 
The  building  contained  two  reading-rooms,  each 
with  its  own  function;  a  recreation-room,  with 
games;  class-rooms  for  the  use  of  the  Bible 
school,  week-day  classes,  and  various  church 
clubs ;  and  a  gymnasium,  besides  the  pastor's  of- 
fice, the  church  auditorium,  and  the  lecture-room. 
"  The  church  may  be  called  semi-institu- 
tional," said  the  pastor.  "  We  find  we  have  to 
give  up  some  things.  Language  classes  were 
advertised ;  enough  pupils  applied,  but  we  found 
they  were  the  kind  that  could  go  elsewhere.  So 
we  substituted  other  work;  for  instance,  that 
for  cash-boys.  We  got  them  by  approaching 
the  proprietors  of  the  stores  in  which  they 
worked.  Result  was  very  successful.  In  the 
suburban  church  the  problem  is  how  to  use  sur- 
plus energy;  here  all  our  energy  can  be  used. 
Something  is  going  on  here  all  the  time.  We 
have  a  group  of  people  who  go  to  the Mis- 
sion, another  to  the  Old  Women's  Home,  an- 
other to  the  Settlement.  Our  library  has  been 
made  unnecessary  by  the  establishment  of  the 
city  library  near  by;  so  we  have  sent  our  Sun- 
day-school books  to  the  missions,  and  keep  only 
religious  literature  for  use  in  the  study  of  the 


THE   EASTERN  WEST  233 

Bible.  Our  gymnasium  work,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  not  interfered  with  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association,  for  we  take  boys  it  won't 
or  can't  take.  Through  the  gymnasium  we  have 
had  a  number  of  boys  come  into  the  church.  Is 
there  a  wide  difference  of  theological  opinion  in 
the  church?  It  is  not  discussed  or  emphasized; 
but  there  is  absolute  freedom,  except  as  to  the 
divinity  of  Christ.  I  know  there  is  difference 
of  belief  about  future  punishment  —  probation, 
restoration,  and  brimstone.  Baptism  would 
seem  to  be  an  exception  "  —  the  Disciples  are 
very  strong  advocates  of  immersion  — "  but  that 
is  really  due  to  catholicity,  for  everybody  agrees 
that  immersion  is  baptism,  but  not  everybody 
accepts  sprinkling  as  valid.  We  advocate  the 
form  that  is  universally  acknowledged."  He 
expressed  opinions  that  were  in  full  accord  with 
modern  developments  of  theological  thought, 
according  to  the  discoveries  of  evolution  and 
literary  criticism  of  the  Bible.  "  We  have  a 
course  of  Bible  lectures,"  he  added ;  "  one  of 
the  speakers,  a  consummate  Bible  lecturer, 
stirred  up  the  people  to  thinking."  His  empha- 
sis, however,  was  all  upon  the  practical  work  of 
relief  of  distress,  effort  for  social  betterment, 
and  education. 


234  THE   EASTERN   WEST 

This  church  is  a  type  of  the  churches  that  are 
winning  their  way  in  the  conventionalized  por- 
tions of  the  West.  Another  church  of  the  same 
type,  but  not  by  any  means  so  obviously  suc- 
cessful, I  saw  in  a  Wisconsin  city.  I  had  made 
an  appointment  to  meet  the  pastor  at  the  church, 
but  missed  my  appointment  because,  when  I 
reached  the  place  to  which  I  had  been  directed, 
I  could  see  no  sign  of  a  church.  After  a  fruit- 
less search,  I  returned  to  the  place  and  discov- 
ered that  what  I  had  taken  to  be  an  elegant 
club-house  or  apartment-house  was  in  fact  the 
church.  Within,  except  for  the  main  audito- 
rium, the  building  was  appropriate  to  its  exte- 
rior— tasteful  parlors,  a  good  library,  convenient 
class-rooms,  two  kitchens,  office-rooms  for  the 
pastor  and  officers  of  the  church,  and  a  small 
theater,  with  stage  complete.  Its  comparative 
inactivity  was  due  to  at  least  tw  o  causes ;  one 
was  that,  being  a  Congregational  church,  it  did 
not  have  the  cooperation  of  other  churches ;  the 
other  was  that  its  success  had  in  some  respects 
threatened  its  ruin,  foi*  one  after  another  of  its 
projects  had  so  outgrown  the  capacity  of  the 
church  that  separation  became  necessary,  and 
energy  formerly  exercised  under  the  church 
organization  had  necessarily  been  withdrawn. 


THE   EASTERN   WEST  235 

The  very  appearance,  therefore,  of  inactivity 
was  in  this  instance  a  demonstration  of  the  vahie 
that  this  church  had  in  the  community.  Like 
the  Disciple  church  I  have  described,  but  in  far 
greater  degree,  this  church  was  a  leader  away 
from  conventional  theological  thought. 

The  direction  from  which  constructive  move- 
ments in  rehgious  thought  and  life  in  the  Middle 
West  are  likely  to  come  is  indicated  by  certain 
signs  of  revolt  against  convention  which  form 
the  subject  of  the  next  chapter. 


the  revolt  against 
conye:n^tiok 


X 

THE   REVOLT  AGAMST 
COJS^VENTION 

'/^F  all  the  men  I've  ever  come  across,"  re- 
V^  marked  a  commercial  traveler  who  hap- 
pened to  be  my  seat-mate  in  a  Western  train, 
"  ministers  have  the  poorest  sense  of  right  and 
wrong.  With  one  exception,  in  all  the  dealings 
I've  had  with  ministers,  I've  come  out  at  the 
little  end." 

The  conversation  was  occasioned  by  the  pub- 
lication in  a  newspaper  which  one  of  us  had  of 
a  report  made  by  a  number  of  clergymen  who 
had  gone  to  a  military  garrison  to  investigate 
the  effects  of  the  abolishment  of  the  "  canteen." 
The  "  investigation  "  had  consisted  largely  in  a 
violent  wordy  altercation  between  the  com- 
mander of  the  garrison  and  the  clergyman  who 
was  chairman  of  the  committee,  during  which 

239 


240  THE  REVOLT 

the  chairman  stated  emphatically  that  he  would 
never  favor  the  resumption  of  the  canteen  even 
if  its  abolishment  had  proved  detrimental  to  the 
troops.  The  report,  v^hich  all  the  clergymen 
but  one  had  signed,  w^as,  of  course,  adverse  to 
the  canteen.  It  w^as  the  willingness  of  these 
clergymen  to  be  partisans  in  trying  to  uphold 
a  conventional  morality  that  had  aroused  my 
fellow-passenger's*  ire.  Their  partisanship  was 
to  him  the  more  contemptible  because  it  in- 
volved ignorance  of  facts  which  were  not  only 
familiar  to  him,  but,  in  his  opinion,  easily  ascer- 
tainable by  any  fair-minded  man.  When  it 
transpired  that  the  committee  based  its  report 
in  the  main  on  the  testimony  of  some  saloon- 
keepers whose  self-interest  led  them  to  agree 
with  the  clergymen  in  favoring  the  abolition 
of  the  canteen,  my  companion  exclaimed,  "  That 
makes  me  hot  under  the  collar ! " 

A  railroad  train  is  not  a  good  place  for  gath- 
ering facts  or  statistics,  but  it  is  not  a  bad  place 
for  discovering  specific  illustrations  of  human 
nature.  The  very  fact  that  neither  of  us  ex- 
pected to  meet  the  other  again  left  us  both  free 
to  disregard  those  considerations  of  the  future 
that  are  the  chief  cause  of  modifying  or  pre- 
venting the  frank  expression  of  opinion.      In 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  241 

this  case,  at  any  rate,  I  found  in  my  fellow- 
traveler  a  type  of  a  great  number  of  men,  as  I 
had  met  them  and  talked  with  them,  who  find 
in  the  conventional  forms  of  religious  life  and 
thought  little  with  which  to  sympathize  and 
much  with  which  to  be  irritated.  I^ot  that 
such  men  are  uninterested  in  religion,  nor 
even  in  the  Church  and  its  ministers.  This 
commercial  traveler,  for  example,  exasperated 
as  he  was  by  this  instance  of  ministerial  nar- 
rowness, volunteered  expressions  of  high  praise 
for  two  ministers  of  his  acquaintance.  The  fact 
is,  I  found  surprisingly  little  of  that  uncom- 
promising prejudice  against  ministers  and  the 
Church,  which  is  often  supposed  to  exist  among 
men  of  my  traveling  companion's  stamp;  on 
the  other  hand,  I  found  a  generally  prevalent 
habit  of  judging  ministers  and  the  Church,  not 
by  their  conformity  to  conventional  standards, 
but  by  their  fruits. 

This  does  not  mean  that  such  men  are  greatly 
impressed  by  numbers.  The  rapid  growth  of 
Christian  Science  interests  them,  but  does  not 
even  begin  to  persuade  them  of  its  value. 
Evidence,  however,,  that  Christian  Science  has 
affected  for  good  the  character  of  some  one 
they  know  does  more  than  interest  them;    it 


242  THE   REVOLT 

arouses  in  them  a  respect  for  that  cult  and  opens 
the  door  to  persuasion.  My  seat-mate,  for  in- 
stance, remarked :  "  I  have  no  use  for  the  evan- 
gehst  and  that  sort  who  rant  around;  I  don't 
mind  their  warming  up  some,  but  this  stamping 
and  shouting  does  no  good." 

"People  come  out  in  crowds  for  it,"  I  sug- 
gested. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  with  a  shrug,  "  but  how  long 
does  it  last?  That's  the  question.  ISTow  you 
take  the  Salvation  Army;  they  keep  looking 
after  their  converts." 

It  is  this  honest  desire  for  what  is  called  in 
the  Western  dialect  "  the  real  thing  "  that  is 
the  chief  impulse  of  the  insurgents  against 
convention  in  all  its  forms.  Certain  forms  of 
conventionality  are  of  course  necessary  Avhen- 
ever  men  act  in  concert.  Conformity  to  tactical 
regulations  can  never  cease  to  be  essential  to 
the  efficiency  of  an  army;  but  ultimately  it  is 
efficiency,  not  conformity  to  tactics,  that  saves 
an  army  from  being  a  mere  military  organiza- 
tion. So  some  form  of  worship  and  of  polity 
is  essential  to  the  efficiency  of  a  church ;  but  it 
is  efficiency  that  saves  a  church  from  being  a 
mere  ecclesiastical  organization.  The  revolt 
against  conventionality  in  religious    life  as  I 


AGAINST  CONVENTION  243 

noted  it  in  the  Middle  West  was  not  against 
forms  and  ceremonies  as  such,  but  against  that 
conventionalism,  whether  in  ceremony  or  belief 
or  conduct,  which  is  substituted  for  "  the  real 
thing."  And  this  revolt  is  by  no  means  con- 
fined to  the  territory  of  the  Church.  The  "keen 
business  Christian,"  who  has  "  tact,  push,  and 
principle,"  is  losing  his  hold  on  many  of  the 
Western  Young  Men's  Christian  Associations. 
A  Sunday  afternoon  service,  such  as  I  attended 
in  an  Iowa  city,  devoted  wholly,  except  for  the 
hymns,  to  addresses  and  prayers  about  raising 
money  for  a  debt,  is  not  quite  so  characteristic 
of  a  Western  Association  as  it  once  was.  In 
the  work  of  the  Associated  Charities  and  simi- 
lar societies  the  revolt  against  conventionalism 
is  very  marked.  Some  statements  made  to  me 
by  an  officer  of  a  charitable  organization  in  that 
Iowa  city  may  illustrate  how  practical  that 
revolt  is : 

"  Until  recently  there  was  an  annual  charity 
ball  given  in  the  city.  Now  that  that  has  been 
given  up,  we  have  better  relations  with  all  sorts 
of  people,  and  charitable  work  has  less  per- 
functory and  more  real  support.  N^evertheless, 
there  are  people  who  donate  to  churches  and 
colleges,  and  yet  gouge  their  washerwomen  and 


244  THE   REVOLT 

underpay  their  coachmen.  It  was  discovered, 
for  instance,  that  one  wealthy  woman,  who  gave 
to  charity,  was  paying  fifty  cents  a  dozen  for 
the  hemming  of  napkins.  Awhile  ago  a  man 
telephoned  to  our  office  asking  for  relief  for  a 
poor  woman.  The  society  made  an  investiga- 
tion, and  discovered  immediately  that  this  man 
was  in  debt  to  the  woman!  As  soon  as  he 
found  out  that  some  one  was  interested  in  her 
rights,  he  paid  up  half  his  debt  and  will  pay  the 
other  half.  On  the  other  hand,  a  certain  work- 
ing-girl became  acquainted  with  a  needy  woman 
with  several  children.  She  persuaded  the  wo- 
man to  share  a  room  with  her  '  on  halves,'  and 
began  to  learn '  fancy  washing '  with  her.  They 
soon  became  adept,  and  as  there  is  a  great 
demand  for  that  kind  of  work  well  done,  they 
had  a  fairly  comfortable  income  before  long. 
That  girl  gave  nothing,  but  did  something. 
That  is  the  kind  of  charitable  work  we  are  in- 
terested in." 

If  the  churches  are  the  last  to  feel  the  effect 
of  this  revolt  from  conventionalism,  it  is  because 
conventionalism  finds  its  strongest  hold  in  the 
minds  of  the  rank  and  file  in  the  churches.  The 
clergyman  in  the  Middle  West  more  than  any- 
where else,  unless  it  is  in  the  remoter  quarters  of 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  245 

^N^ew  England,  is  required  by  a  public  opinion, 
which  he  could  not  withstand  if  he  would,  to  con- 
form to  cei'tain  standards  of  thought  (or  at  least 
public  expression)  and  of  conduct  which  his  con- 
gregation set  up  for  him.  Under  this  tacit  super- 
vision many  of  the  clergymen,  especially  among 
the  younger  men,  are  more  restive  than  they 
like  to  admit.  The  more  conscientious  a  young 
minister  is,  the  more  he  objects  to  have  people  { 
who  are  certainly  no  more  thoughtful  and  no  ) 
better  trained  than  he  designate  what  his  men-  . 
tal  processes  should  be;  and  the  more  he  also 
objects  to  have  people  who  are  certainly  no 
more  morally  responsible  than  he  decide  just 
what  things  are  right  and  wrong  for  him  to  do. 
Consequently  there  is  a  certain  proportion  of 
ministers  who  are  in  sympathy  with  the  revolt 
against  religious  conventionalism.  It  so  hap- 
pened that  the  men  that  I  met  who  were  keenly 
alive  to  the  spirit  of  revolt  were  mainly,  on  the 
one  hand,  men  outside  the  Church,  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  ministers.  The  one  man  who  was 
an  indubitable  exception  was  the  clerk  of  a 
church  which  had  caught  the  spirit  of  revolt 
from  the  stimulating  personality  of  its  minister. 
Such  a  church,  however,  is  an  exception,  because 
such  a  minister  is  rare.     Most  of  the  insurgents. 


246  THE   REVOLT 

as  I  saw  them,  were,  therefore,  either  the  so- 
called  "unchurched"  or  ministers  at  the  mercy 
of  their  congregations. 

This  explains  the  experience  of  a  young 
clergyman  as  he  told  it  to  me.  He  had  been  in 
charge  of  a  church  in  one  of  the  Dakotas.  In 
that  region  conventionalism  has  not  yet  obtained 
the  sway  it  has  in  more  settled  regions.  Al- 
though the  members  of  the  church  were  con- 
ventional enough,  they  depended  for  the  support 
of  the  church  to  some  degree  upon  the  com- 
munity at  large.  The  minister  was  therefore 
measurably  his  own  master  in  thought  and  con- 
duct. As  a  result  his  experience  proved  to  him 
that  his  steadiest  support,  both  moral  and  ma- 
terial, came  from  men  who  were  members  of  no 
church.  The  result  to  the  active  religious  life 
of  his  church  was  highly  beneficial.  Circum- 
stances like  these,  however,  which  enable  the 
two  extreme  classes  of  insurgents  to  join  forces 
to  increase  genuine  religious  life,  are  very 
uncommon,  and  in  the  Middle  West  almost 
impossible. 

Ministers  who  have  the  impulse  to  be  out- 
spoken in  their  revolt  against  convention  may 
be  roughly  divided  into  four  categories,  accord- 
ing to  the  way  in  which  they  yield  to  that  im- 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  247 

pulse  —  or  resist  it.  Into  one  class  may  be  put 
those  who  through  circumstance,  or  more  likely 
their  own  tactlessness,  find  themselves  adrift. 
Some  of  these  go  into  other  professions.  I  was 
told  by  one  man,  himself  an  ex-minister,  who 
was  promoting  a  new  "  fraternal  benefit  order," 
that  he  had  received  forty  applications  for  ap- 
pointment to  agencies  from  ministers  alone. 
Others,  who  can  be  said  to  form  the  second 
category,  preferring  to  remain  in  the  pastorate, 
restrain  their  tendency  to  outspokenness,  become 
conformists  in  order  to  secure  support  for  their 
families,  and  as  they  lose  their  genuineness 
gradually  cease  to  chafe  under  their  limitations. 
Occasionally  may  be  found  a  minister  who  be- 
longs by  right  to  a  third  category  —  one  who 
proves  strong  enough,  and  forgets  himself  suf- 
ficiently, to  go  to  work,  without  domineering, 
for  the  education  of  his  people  in  the  wholesome 
hatred  of  shams.  I  met  one  such  minister,  but 
he  did  not  live  in  the  real  domain  of  conven- 
tional religion.  Any  young  minister  with  cour- 
age and  without  egotism  might  find  it  a  high 
and  yet  reasonable  ambition  to  achieve  a  place 
among  men  of  this  third  category.  There  are, 
however,  in  a  fourth  category,  some  ministers 
who,  choosing  to  remain  in  the  pastorate  as  the 


248  THE  REVOLT 

best  place  in  which  to  fight  the  battle  for  reality 
in  religion,  accept  the  risk  of  being  adrift  most 
of  the  time,  face  the  obloquy  which  is  visited 
upon  ministers  who  are  "  without  charge,"  and 
then  proceed  to  be  themselves,  rather  than  try 
to  be  their  deacons  or  pew-holders,  in  what  they 
think  and  do.  Naturally,  they  have  egotism 
as  well  as  courage. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  spend  some  time 
in  the  company  of  a  minister  who  had  this  spirit 
of  willingness  to  face  the  consequences  of  his 
convictions.  Though  not  one  of  those  minis- 
ters who  by  virtue  of  exceptional  strength  and 
self-forgetfulness  become  real  leaders,  he  was 
representative  of  a  certain  class  of  men  who  by 
their  outspokenness  are  doing  much  to  cast  dis- 
credit upon  the  spirit  of  religious  convention- 
ality. At  the  time  I  met  him  he  was  pastor  of 
a  Congregational  church  in  a  small  Iowa  town. 
He  was  a  big,  broad-shouldered  man,  who 
showed  the  vigor  and  frankness  of  his  character 
in  every  movement.  I  wish  I  could  reproduce 
the  impression  of  candor  and  facile  strength 
that  he  gave  as  he  talked,  not  so  much  of  him- 
self or  his  work  as  of  the  people  in  the  places 
where  he  had  lived  and  their  conditions  of 
life.      On   the  way  to   his  town  of   T ,  I 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  249 

spoke  of  the  country  through  which  we  were 
passing. 

"  Most  of  the  farms  are  occupied  by  tenants 
who  hire  their  laborers.  The  Iowa  farm-hand 
works  six  weeks  in  the  spring  and  then  six 
weeks  more  later  in  the  year,  and  then  is  '  fired ' 
—  about  the  most  unsatisfactory  life  possible. 
Within  my  memory  the  Iowa  farm-tenant  has 
developed  much  like  the  Irish  tenant.  The 
farmers  of  a  generation  ago  made  their  money 
and  then  moved  to  town.  These  retired  farmers 
are  niggardly  —  they've  gotten  into  penurious 
habits  —  and  they  don't  do  any  good  to  the 
towns  they  live  in.  Then  they  rent  their  farms 
to  poorer  men,  and  require  full  payment.  The 
existence  of  these  absentee  landlords  means  a 
lot  of  poor  devils  just  scraping  along.  I  know 
one  man  who  at  the  end  of  the  year  didn't  have 
enough  corn  to  feed  his  team,  and  yet  he  had  a 
binful  which  he  couldn't  touch.  That  man 
hates  everybody  and  has  no  use  for  religion." 

"What  shall  we  do?"  said  a  friend  of  mine 
who  was  traveling  with  us.  "What  will  the 
seer  say?  " 

"That's  the  question.  It  is  simple:  adopt 
some  just  way  of  renting  land  to  the  man  who 
uses  it,  and  some  way  of  taking  the  railroads 


250  THE   KEVOLT 

out  of  the  hands  of  those  who  have  a  private 
snap.  I'm  a  hmdlord  myself.  I  was  raised  as 
a  phitocrat,  and  was  taught  that  my  father 
owned  all  outdoors.  I  clerked  in  a  country 
store  (what  is  called  nowadays  a  '  department 
store '  —  sold  everything),  and  when  I  went  into 
the  ministry  I  thought  that  the  labor  agitation 
was  simply  the  growl  of  unsuccessful  men 
against  success.  Here  "  — the  train  was  draw- 
ing up  to  a  station — "is  a  typical  railroad 
town.  The  railroad  company  has  made  a  real- 
estate  thing  of  it.  This  division  is  a  hundred 
and  forty-four  miles.  Terrible!  Some  crews 
work  sixty  houi's  at  a  stretch.  I  buried  a  man 
who  worked  for  fifty  hours  straight  on  a  pile- 
driver;  he  lost  his  hold  and  fell  into  the  river. 
Here  there's  one  church  that  is  trying  to  divide 
railroad  men  into  classes.  Railroads  are  per- 
fectly willing  to  have  their  men  foi*m  brother- 
hoods, for  they  pull  apart.  Firemen  are  just 
waiting  for  a  strike  of  engineers,  for  then  they'll 
go  in  and  run  the  trains." 

After  some  interesting,  but  for  the  purpose 
of  this  article  irrelevant,  discussion  of  labor 
questions,  our  conversation  was  guided,  by  some 
questions  I  asked,  into  consideration  of  some  of 
this  man's  experiences.     After  giving  an  ac- 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  251 

count  of  his  pastorate  in  a  church  which  had, 
when  he  went  to  it,  only  two  women  as  mem- 
bers, and  in  a  year  and  a  half  grew  to  have  a 
membership  of  seventeen,  he  told  of  his  going 

to  the  city  of  C . 

"  It  was  just  after  the  panic,"  he  explained, 
"  and  the  Congregational  church  asked  me  to 
come.  I  was  the  only  '  cheap  boy  '  they  could 
find.  It  was  really  a  railroad  men's  church. 
The  railroads  at  that  time  introduced  a  bill  into 
the  Legislature  providing  for  '  benefits  ' —  a 
scheme  to  make  employees  pay  damages  for 
accidents  occurring  to  them.  An  amendment  to 
frustrate  that  scheme  was  introduced,  and  I 
went  down  to  lobby  for  it.  The  railroad  men 
hailed  me  with  delight  as  the  one  minister  who 
would  help.  But  when  I  was  asked  by  some  of 
the  railroad  men  to  stand  for  their  political  party, 
I  told  them  I  wouldn't  have  anything  to  do  with  a 
rotten  institution.  That's  why  I  left  the  church. 
I  made  a  mistake  in  that;  for  my  successor, 
though  a  good  man,  wasn't  in  touch  with  the  rail- 
road men.  I  think  some  day  I  may  go  back  and 
organize  an  independent  church  —  not  a  work- 
ingman's  church,  but  a  church  for  all  kinds  to- 
gether —  for  unless  the  Church  has  a  message  for 
social  conditions  it  had  better  get  off  the  earth." 


252  THE   REVOLT 

"Shall  we  change  conditions,"  my  friend 
inquired,  "  or  change  men?" 

"  The  tunnel  is  working  at  both  ends,"  was 
the  laconic  answer,  in  railroad  metaphor.  "  Take 
a  boy  of  seventeen  or  eighteen ;  he  naturally  has 
ambitions,  not  for  money  or  fame,  but  for  some 
noble  ideals;  but  he  gets  out  into  the  world  and 
goes  for  money;  for  he  feels  in  his  conditions 
the  spirit  of  greed,  catches  it,  and  —  There's  a 
dead  town,"  he  said,  interrupting  himself,  as  we 
whizzed  by  a  village  whose  shaded,  grass-bor- 
dered streets  made  it  look  like  a  Massachusetts 
village  come  West  for  a  visit. 

On  our  arrival  at  T we  walked  and  drove 

about  the  town.  By  the  way  in  which  he  was 
accosted,  by  his  familiarity  with  men  of  all 
kinds  whom  we  chanced  to  meet,  by  many  little 
incidents,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  our  host  had  a 
very  intimate  knowledge  of  the  lives  and  char- 
acters of  the  people  in  this  community.  Here, 
he  pointed  out,  was  a  house  where  thei-e  lived  a 
man  who  got  so  much  a  week  and  had  to  pay 
such  and  such  rent;  there  was  the  home  of  a 
poor  family,  in  which  a  child  died  and  no  one 
offered  to  help  except  the  keeper  of  an  illegal 
dive  across  the  street,  perhaps  for  business  rea- 
sons; that    house    back  from   the   street    was 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  253 

occupied  by  an  absentee  landlord;  this  little 
white  house  with  the  board  walk  in  front  was 
the  home  of  a  humble,  devout  old  couple  with  a 
lot  of  money  laid  by  —  the  old  man  was  in  the 
habit  of  secretly  doing  a  great  deal  of  good 
with  his  money  in  very  wise  ways,  some  of 
which  our  host  specified ;  along  that  side  of  the 
town  was  the  poor  quarter  —  a  good  many 
foreigners,  mostly  Catholics,  almost  every  house 
suggesting  some  human  story.  So  our  tour 
continued  until  we  bade  farewell  to  our  host. 

His  burly  frame,  his  cheerful,  clean-shaven 
face,  and  his  paternal  relations  with  the  people 
invited  the  priestly  appellation,  "  Father." 
That  made  it  seem  appropriate  that  he  should 
still  be  popularly  known  by  his  college  nickname, 
"  Pa."  When  we  had  left,  my  friend,  who  is 
himself  a  minister,  and  whose  judgment  is  al- 
ways sane  and  well  considered,  turned  to  me 
and  said :  "  Remember, '  Pa '  is  full  of  his  ideas, 
but  there  are  old  people  who  are  living  their 
faith  with  just  as  much  sincerity  as  he  has,  and 
they  haven't  his  appreciation  of  social  condi- 
tions. The  old  man  is  always  talking  about 
the  condition  of  his  soul,  keeping  near  to  Christ, 
and  conversion;  but  A  and  B  [naming  two 
young  men  of  our  acquaintance]   are   talking 


254  THE  REVOLT 

about  this  life,  and  whether  there  is  justice  or 
injustice,  and  how  we  can  cure  certain  evils. 
In  prayer-meeting  the  old  want  to  have  '  testi- 
monies,' the  young  want  to  discuss  social  prob- 
lems. The  minister  to-day  needs  to  be  broad 
enough  to  feel  both  sides  of  the  truth — broader 
than  ever." 

The  last  time  I  saw  our  vigorous  host,  the 
rather  quixotic  free-lance  against  all  conven- 
tionalism, was  at  a  meeting  of  an  association 
of  churches.  He  was  called  upon  to  make  a 
report  of  his  church,  and  he  made  it  in  char- 
acteristic disregard  of  possible  consequent  re- 
flections upon  himself.  He  began  by  a  refer- 
ence to  the  conditions  of  life  in  the  town ;  then 
described  the  young  people's  society,  which  was 
fairly  active  when  he  became  pastor.  "  But 
now,"  he  continued,  "it  is  dead  and  only  lacks 
burial.  There  are  two  women's  societies;  one 
is  a  "Woman's  Working  Society  that  does  no 
work  —  except  to  raise  money.  The  other  is 
the  Woman's  Missionary  Society.  It  is  divided 
into  twelve  bands.  Each  band  makes  a  clean 
sweep  of  the  town  every  month.  Every  new 
family  gets  twelve  invitations  during  the  year — 
one  a  month.  The  Society's  work  is  entirely  in- 
dependent of  the  pastor,  and  goes  on  whether 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  255 

there  is  a  pastor  or  not.  It  is  stronger  to-day 
than  ever.  It  is  remarkable  in  organization 
and  in  spirit.  Yon  see,  I'm  reporting,  not 
about  the  pastor,  but  about  the  church.  As  to 
the  Sunday-school  — "  "  Time's  up,"  inter- 
rupted the  moderator.  "  Oh,  I  can  quit  any 
time,"  he  replied.  "  We've  got  a  church  over 
there.     Come  over  and  see  it." 

It  would  be  a  mistake  to  infer  from  the  inde- 
pendence of  this  particular  religious  free-lance 
that  the  revolt  against  conventionalism  is  in 
general  essentially  quixotic.  He  was  rather  a 
striking  example  in  one  direction  (the  socio- 
logical) of  a  tendency  that  I  felt  was  evident, 
though  less  marked,  among  many  ministers  in 
many  directions,  sociological,  theological,  eccle- 
siastical, and  ethical.  And  this  tendency  has  a 
very  real  bearing  upon  practical  religious  work. 
How  true  this  is  I  learned  specifically  from  a 
young  man  who  was  carrying  on  a  mission  in 
one  of  the  cities  of  the  Middle  West.  He  had 
been  a  wandering  "  street  fakir  "  until  some 
happening  suddenly  brought  him  to  the  deter- 
mination to  turn  his  life  into  the  direction  of 
decency  and  usefulness.  To  one  minister  after 
another  he  went  for  moral  backing,  but  each  in 
turn    had   only    some   conventional   phrase  to 


256  THE   REVOLT 

offer  —  sound  enough,  in  the  orthodox  sense, 
Scriptural,  he  acknowledged,  but  somehow  not 
very  vital,  not  very  real  to  him.  At  last  one 
minister  started  him  on  the  way  to  getting  the 
strength  and  courage  that  he  needed,  and  en- 
abled him  to  turn  his  determination  into  action. 
He  broke  with  his  old  way  of  living,  and  at 
once,  without  money,  almost  without  friends, 
undertook  as  his  life-work  to  help  others  out 
of  degradation  into  self-respect  and  right  liv- 
ing. He  had  no  special  theology,  but  he  did 
have  a  faith  in  the  power  that  had  made  a  dif- 
ferent man  of  him.  He  had  also  a  practical 
acquaintance  with  the  sort  of  people  he  wanted 
to  help.  He  knew  their  dissatisfaction  with 
their  life,  for  he  had  shared  that  with  them ;  he 
knew  also  their  pretense  about  enjoying  life, 
for  he  had  shared  that  too.  But  he  was  dis- 
trustful of  himself — he  was  not  good  enough, 
so  he  imagined,  to  help  them.  So  he  under- 
took to  provide  assistance  to  the  needy,  estab- 
lish a  place  of  meeting,  and  get  an  audience, 
but  instead  of  publicly  speaking  himself,  he 
turned  to  the  ministers  of  the  city  to  bring  to 
the  people  the  message  of  power.  Then  again 
he  was  disappointed.  ]N^ot  that  any  refused  to 
respond  to  his  request,  but  most  of  them  had 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  257 

no  message  that  meant  anything  to  these  peo- 
ple. It  was  again  the  conventional  phrase  in- 
stead of  the  real  vital  word.  Still  he  persisted ; 
he  did  not  alter  his  plan  of  calling  upon  the 
ministers  because  of  disappointment  at  first. 
And  for  his  persistence  he  was  rewarded. 
Brought  into  acquaintance  with  men  and  wo- 
men who  were  grievously  and  consciously  in 
need  of  moral  help,  ministers  who  had  begun 
by  saying  merely  the  conventional  things 
learned  to  be  genuine  and  real  before  that  audi- 
ence. As  a  consequence,  that  one  man  with 
his  rescue  mission  has,  without  knowing  it, 
done  more  to  break  down  religious  convention- 
alism than  any  other  force  in  the  city.  And 
yet  there  are  strongholds  of  conventionalism 
which  he  found  impregnable.  The  most  im- 
pregnable were  in  two  churches,  one  represen- 
tative of  the  most  wealthy  and  cultivated 
classes  in  the  city,  the  other  made  up  distinc- 
tively of  the  ignorant,  though  fairly  well-to-do, 
and  shepherded  by  an  uneducated  minister  of 
the  literalist  type.  The  minister  of  the  wealthy 
church  had  responded  with  the  greatest  kind- 
ness to  the  request  of  the  superintendent  of  the 
mission,  but,  after  a  number  of  experiences,  said 
to  him  at  last,  "  There  is  nothing  I  should  care 


258  THE   REVOLT 

so  much  to  do  as  to  be  able  to  speak  to  the 
people  of  the  mission,  but  I  find  I  cannot  —  I 
do  not  know  how;  I  must  acknowledge  my 
limitations.  Financial  help,  however,  our 
church  can  and  will  give  you."  The  unedu- 
cated minister  took  quite  the  reverse  attitude; 
he  not  only  responded  to  requests,  but  volun- 
teered his  services  as  a  speaker;  he  shouted, 
gesticulated,  reiterated  his  shibboleths;  but  all 
to  no  purpose.  His  failure  was  profound.  And 
yet  he  continued  to  embarrass  the  superinten- 
dent with  his  proffers  of  service,  until  he  devel- 
oped into  a  permanent  problem.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  superintendent  spoke  in  terms  of 
gratitude  with  regard  to  the  religious  influence 
upon  the  people  of  the  mission  exerted  by  cer- 
tain of  the  ministers  of  the  city.  One  of  these 
ministers  I  have  already  referred  to,  in  connec- 
tion with  another  incident,  as  by  nature  above 
the  understanding  of  the  conformist.  The 
story  of  this  superintendent,  as  I  learned  it 
partly  from  himself  and  partly  from  others, 
was  one  of  the  most  cheering  evidences  of  the 
degree  to  which  the  revolt  against  convention 
has  already  extended  in  the  Middle  West. 

IN^o  reaction  against  an  evil  is  always  wholly 
good.     The  reaction  against  the  spirit  of  con- 


AGAINST   CONVENTION  259 

f ormity  has  its  perversions.  In  some  cases  it  has 
become  attenuated  into  a  rather  frothy  senti- 
ment. One  young  preacher,  very  popular  if 
judged  by  the  crowds  that  come  to  his  meetings, 
who  is  a  leader  in  an  "  independent  movement," 
graciously  gave  me  a  few  moments  of  his  very 
busy  life ;  but  I  got  little  from  him  except  some 
vague  generalities  about  hurting  nobody's  con- 
science, about  the  insufficiency  of  religious  work 
through  accessions  of  converts  to  the  churches, 
and  about  the  need  of  making  "  a  direct  assault 
upon  public  opinion."  On  the  other  hand,  this 
revolt  has  in  some  cases  hardened  into  purely 
ethical  experiments.  At  Hull  House,  Chicago, 
for  instance,  where  such  courageous  and  tri- 
umphant work  for  civic  and  social  decency  has 
been  done,  an  incidental  mention  which  I  made 
of  a  possible  religious  basis  for  such  work  was 
met  with  a  chilling  disclaimer  of  any  trace  of 
religious  motive  in  their  efforts,  the  more  chill- 
ing because  in  strong  contrast  to  the  cordial 
welcome  I  personally  received. 

And  yet  every  independent  church  movement 
is  by  no  means  therefore  sentimental.  A  great 
theater  service  I  attended  in  Chicago  was  sus- 
tained by  a  vast  work  of  practical  beneficence. 
^N^or  does  every  social  settlement  feel  the  reli- 


260     REVOLT  AGAINST  CONVENTION 

gious  motive  alien  to  its  life,  as  was  abundantly 
proved  even  in  a  very  brief  visit  I  made  to  Chi- 
cago Commons;  for  it  so  happened  that  on  that 
visit  I  found  the  evening  service  of  a  neighbor- 
hood church  being  held  in  the  modern  and  beau- 
tiful building  erected  and  maintained  by  the 
Commons.  Indeed,  even  those  phases  of  the 
reaction  against  conventionalism  that  seem  most 
unfortunate  are  signs  of  hopefulness,  after  all; 
for  they  add  to  the  multiform  assaults  that  are 
being  made  upon  the  deadening  spirit  of  reli- 
gious pretense,  and  hasten  the  day  of  its  over- 
throw. 


THE   LEAYEK  AND   THE   LUMP 


XI 

THE  leave:n^  and  the  lump 

ALMOST  all  Americans  are  of  course  essen- 
-^^  tially  Europeans  transplanted.  A  good 
deal  of  what  we  like  to  call  distinctively  Ameri- 
can is  composed  of  traits  characteristic  of 
Europe  in  the  seventeenth  or  eighteenth  cen- 
tury/ There  is  reason,  therefore,  in  distin- 
guishing between  Asiatic  and  European  immi- 
grants, whether  we  consider  them  as  social, 
economic,  political,  or  religious  factors  in  the 
life  of  the  Nation.  There  is  reason  even  in 
raising  the  query  whether  the  African  people 
who  have  been  on  this  continent  for  generations 
are  not  more  truly  aliens  than  the  newcomers 
from  the  countries  of  Europe.  At  any  rate,  it 
is  fair  to  say  that  most  of  the  foreigners  who 

iMr.  Barrett  Wendell  has  drawn  an  interesting  parallel  between  the 
Yankee  and  the  seventeenth-century  Briton  in  his  "Literary  History  of 
America. " 

263 


264   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

are  streaming  in  to  make  their  homes  here  are 
meeting  not  with  an  utterly  strange  civilization, 
but  rather  with  a  different  phase  of  the  same 
civilization  to  which  they  have  been  accustomed. 
To  this  as  well  as  to  the  American  spirit  of 
I'eligious  toleration  I  attribute  the  fact  that  no- 
where in  the  course  of  my  trip  did  I  meet  with 
evidence  that  newly  arrived  Europeans  had 
found  occasion  after  their  arrival  for  any  \aolent 
readjustment  of  their  religious  life.  Whatever 
adjustment  came  to  my  attention  was  invari- 
ably the  result  of  a  comparatively  slow  process. 
Such  adjustment,  moreover,  was  not  by  any 
means  all  on  one  side.  The  process  of  making 
the  Nation  is  not  the  simple  one,  as  every  one 
knows,  of  turning  Irishmen  and  Germans  and 
Swedes  into  Yankees;  it  is,  so  to  speak,  chemi- 
cal, and  the  result  is  neither  the  one  element 
nor  the  other,  but  a  new  substance.  The  unmi- 
grants  are  not  being  modified  without  modify- 
ing America  in  return.  The  making  of  Amer- 
ica did  not  end  with  the  adoption  of  the 
Constitution.  It  is  only  necessary  to  cite  the 
history  of  music  in  America  for  the  last  genera- 
tion to  suggest  how  much  the  Europeans  who 
have  come  into  the  United  States  within  that 
time  have  contributed  to  the  national  character. 


THE  LEAVEI^  AND  THE  LUMP      265 

Similarly  in  religious  life  there  was  not  a  little 
that  I  observed  which  could  have  come  from  no 
other  source  than  these  people  whom  we  are 
accustomed  to  regard  as  being  "  assimilated  " 
like  so  much  food. 

As  I  came  across  foreigners  in  various  parts 
of  the  country  three  questions  were  in  my 
mind:  First,  in  what  ways  is  the  immigrant 
population  affecting  religious  life  in  America? 
Second,  in  what  ways  is  America  affecting 
religious  life  in  the  immigrant  population? 
Third,  what  are  churches,  or  other  religious 
bodies,  or  individual  Christians  doing  to  use 
religion  for  the  purpose  of  making  out  of  these 
immigrants  loyal  American  citizens? 

In  order  to  find  definite  answers  to  these 
questions,  one  ought  to  be  able  to  use  with 
some  fluency  the  languages  of  these  foreigners, 
and  ought  to  know  their  lives  far  more  inti- 
mately than  the  casual  observer  can  possibly 
know  them.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that 
I  shall  attempt  no  definite  answers.  I  shall 
simply  record  my  experiences  as  they  touched 
upon  foreign  people  in  America,  using  the 
three  questions  as  interpreters. 

It  is  perfectly  evident  to  any  one  with  eyes 
in  his  head  who  travels  in  the  United  States 


266   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

that  there  are  many  communities  of  foreigners 
which  contribute  little  but  their  numbers  to 
the  IS^ation,  and  receive  in  return  little  more 
than  a  space  in  which  to  live.  In  religious 
life  they  have  only  such  significance  as  springs 
from  isolation.  Such  were  the  Bohemians 
that  I  saw  in  Virginia.  They  had  settled  in 
the  Dakotas,  I  was  told,  but  had  been  frozen 
out  by  the  long  winters,  and  had  sought  a 
milder  climate  not  far  from  Petersburg.  I 
could  well  believe  the  old-time  Southern  gen- 
tleman who  said  to  me  that  they  "refused 
to  affiliate  with  the  inhabitants."  Their  mo- 
bility was  evidence  of  their  unwillingness  to 
mingle  with  strangers.  "They  keep  great 
mastiffs,"  continued  my  informant,  "  which 
scare  people  off ;  they  refuse  to  speak  English ; 
they  won't  work  with  other  people,  though  you 
can  see  them  at  work  on  the  roads;  they  are 
Catholics  and  won't  have  anything  to  do  with 
Lutherans,  even  of  their  own  blood;  they  level 
abandoned  graveyards,  using  the  gravestones 
for  landmarks.  I  have  even  seen  in  one  kitchen 
a  stone,  used  to  make  bread  on,  with  the  in- 
scription, 'Sacred  to  the  memory  of .'   They 

drive  out  the  'niggroes';   that,"  he  added  as 
his  opinion,  "  is  the  only  good  thing  they  do." 


T;H|E  LEAVEN  AND  THE   LUMP      267 

In  the  big  cities  there  are  colonies  of  foreign- 
ers, as  is  well  known,  who  are  almost  if  not 
quite  as  isolated  as  these  Bohemians  of  Vir- 
ginia. A  resident  in  a  social  settlement  situ- 
ated among  Italians  in  the  city  of  'New  York 
told  me  that  he  knew  of  Italian  and  Sicilian 
villages  which  he  had  visited  from  which  half 
the  population  had  gone  bodily  to  the  neigh- 
borhood of  his  social  settlement  or  to  other 
places  in  the  American  metropolis.  Such 
transplanted  communities  retained  in  the  New 
World  their  old  local  customs,  their  religious 
peculiarities,  their  neighborhood  acquaintances ; 
indeed,  were  almost  as  sufficient  unto  them- 
selves as  they  were  in  their  Italian  or  Sicilian 
homes. 

Such  "  side-tracked  communities,"  as  they 
have  been  called,  exist  in  all  parts  of  the 
country.  Some  of  them  count  their  age  by 
generations.  Particularly  is  this  true  in  the 
State  of  Pennsylvania.  Many  of  the  so-called 
Pennsylvania  Dutch  are  nearly  as  far  out  of 
the  current  of  present-day  American  life  as 
they  ever  were.  With  some  of  these,  whose 
ancestors  were  American  born,  I  have  found  it 
almost  as  hard  to  communicate  in  English  as  if 
they  had  just  landed  from  Germany.     Under 


268   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

these  conditions  the  persistence  of  secluded 
churches  and  sects  is  but  natural:  the  Wine- 
brennerians  and  the  Dunkards,  for  instance, 
with  their  exotic  rites,  the  Moravians  with  their 
very  beautiful  customs  and  unworldly  spirit, 
the  Little  Russians,  nominally  under  the  con- 
trol of  Roman  Catholic  archbishops,  but  retain- 
ing, as  in  Galicia  and  Hungary,  their  Slavonic 
liturgy  and  their  distinctive  forms  of  saint- 
worship.  Such  religious  bodies,  interesting, 
picturesque,  and,  in  the  case  of  the  Moravians, 
valuable  as  they  are,  may  be  said  to  be  only 
incidental  to  the  religious  life  of  America. 

As  a  rule,  however,  I  found  a  process  of 
action  and  reaction  going  on  between  the  for- 
eign people  and  the  communities  in  which  they 
had  settled.  The  most  evident  result  of  such 
a  process  is  a  change  in  the  religious  life  of  the 
native  American  population.  Sometimes  this 
change  is  one  of  decline  and  can  be  traced  in 
large  measure  to  the  exclusiveness  of  the  for- 
eigners. A  town  in  southern  Illinois  which  I 
visited,  for  example,  has  been  for  decades  sub- 
ject to  gradual  inroads  of  Germans  and  Bohe- 
mians. In  the  early  days  of  the  town  it  had 
been,  according  to  m)^  informant,  "  historic 
ground  for  Methodism."     Now  it  is  filled  with 


THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP      269 

Catholics,  Evangelicals,  Lutherans,  and  Ger- 
man Methodists.  These  foreigners  were  used 
in  the  old  countries  to  a  life  of  drudgery,  and 
they  retained  their  habits  of  unremittent  toil  in 
their  new  surroundings.  The  Bohemians  often 
made  their  working  days  last  from  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  to  nine  o'clock  at  night.  The 
American  farmers  could  not  —  or  would  not  — 
stand  such  a  pace,  and  consequently  yielded 
the  land  to  the  newcomers.  The  result  has 
been  a  gradual  but  irresistible  diminishing  of 
English-speaking  congregations  and  a  spirit  of 
lethargy  among  the  English-speaking  people 
who  remain.  A  contributive  force  in  this  pro- 
cess has  been  the  tendency,  which  exists  in  the 
Middle  West  to  only  a  less  degree  than  in 
^N^ew  England,  of  the  more  enterprising  spirits 
in  the  villages  and  smaller  towns  to  seek  the 
supposed  advantages  offered  by  the  rapid 
growth  of  cities.  The  decay  of  religious  insti- 
tutions has  been  accompanied  by  a  weakening 
of  the  moral  character  of  the  community, 
indicated  not  so  much  by  the  increase  of  vice 
or  crime  as  by  the  paralysis  of  the  will  and  the 
obliteration  of  the  spirit  of  hopefulness  and 
self-reliance. 

Another  effect  of  the  presence  of  Europeans 


270   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

in  an  American  community  is  to  be  seen  in  the 
result  of  theii'  example  in  altering  the  publicly 
accepted  standards  of  moral  conduct.  Whether 
these  standards  are  as  a  rule  conventional  or 
vital  depends  upon  one's  point  of  view.  One 
minister  whom  I  met  in  Kansas  considered 
them  vital.  He  had  formerly  been  the  pastor 
of  a  church  in  St.  Louis.  Many  of  his  parish- 
ioners were  Germans  who  did  not  have  his 
views  about  the  delusive  qualities  of  beer,  or 
the  proper  ways  of  observing  the  Lord's  day. 
He  told  me  that  one  of  his  trustees  who  was 
fond  of  taking  his  family  out  driving  on  Sun- 
day mornings  would  not  infrequently  remark 
if  they  happened  to  meet  on  Saturday :  "  Veil, 
looks  like  to-morrow  be  stormy;  I'll  be  at 
church."  The  minister  confessed  that  he  was 
glad  to  flee  into  Kansas  from  such  a  demoraliz- 
ing foreign  influence.  In  another  and  even 
more  distinctively  German  city  I  met  a  minister 
who  testified  to  a  somewhat  similar  result  of 
foreign  influence,  though  he  had  an  altogether 
different  opinion  of  it. 

"  When  I  first  came  here,"  he  told  me,  "  I 
was  fresh  from  ]N^ew  England,  and  I  had  my 
New  England  ideas  about  right  and  wrong.  I 
soon   discovered   that   the   Puritan  feeling   is 


THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE   LUMP      271 

dissipated  here.  A  deacon  — he  was  not  a 
German  —  drove  me  about  to  show  me  the  city. 
We  came  to  a  big  brewery. 

" '  There  are  three  grades  of  beer  brewed 
there,'  he  said. 

"  'Is  there  any  real  difference?'  I  inquired, 
for  I  wanted  to  know  all  that  I  could  about 
the  industries  of  the  city  in  which  I  was  to  live. 

" '  Yes,  indeed ;  there  is  a  very  decided  dif- 
ference,' he  answered. 

" 'Which  is  considered  the  best?'  I  asked. 

"  '  Well,'  he  said  in  reply, '  for  my  part  /  like 
"  export "  best ' ;  then  seeing  the  surprise  in  my 
face,  and  anticipating  my  next  and  rather  per- 
sonal question,  he  added, '  Oh,  yes,  I  do?  " 

This  clergyman,  though  pastor  of  a  church 
strictly  Puritan  by  right  of  descent,  had  come 
to  believe  that  the  influence  of  the  foreign  ele- 
ment upon  the  moral  standard  of  the  churches 
was  wholesome;  he  believed  that  it  revealed 
the  conventionahty  of  those  standards,  and  that 
the  churches'  conception  of  Christian  character 
could  and  ought  to  be  freed  from  bondage  to 
mere  conventionality ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  it 
introduced  perspective  into  the  Chinese  flatness 
by  which  the  Puritan  depicted  all  acts  of  which 
he  approved  as  of  equal  moral  value. 


272   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

So  much  for  the  influence  of  innnigrants  upon 
the  reUgious  Ufe  of  America.  What,  in  turn, 
has  been  the  influence  of  the  American  democ- 
racy upon  the  rehgious  life  of  these  innmigrants? 
In  many  respects  this  is  a  harder  question  to 
answer  than  the  former,  because  it  is  harder  for 
an  American  to  trace  changes  in  the  life  of  an 
alien  people  than  in  the  life  of  people  among 
whom  he  lives.  I*^evertheless,  some  of  these 
changes  are  very  obvious.  The  American  sys- 
tem of  public  education  very  rapidly  breaks 
down  racial  barriers  between  children  of  dif- 
ferent nationalities,  and  therefore  modifies 
religious  life  in  those  respects  in  which  it  is 
determined  by  racial  custom.  An  Irish  priest 
pointed  out  to  me  the  distinction  that  lies 
between  German  Catholics  and  Irish  Catholics. 
In  Germany,  he  said,  the  people  are  supremely 
proud  of  their  church;  they  are  ambitious  to 
have  the  building  well  constructed  and  beauti- 
ful, the  altar  properly  adorned,  and  the  estab- 
lishment well  taken  care  of;  but  their  relations 
to  their  priest  are  formal  and  somewhat  im- 
personal. The  Irish,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
proverbially  careless,  not  to  say  slovenly,  in 
their  care  of  the  church;  they  are  willing  to 
have  it  and  all  its  appurtenances  'shabby;  but 


THE   LEAVEN   AND   THE   LUMP      273 

with  their  priest  they  are  on  intimate  terms; 
they  love  to  have  him  come  as  a  f amihar  friend 
into  their  homes,  be  they  poor  or  rich;  they 
turn  to  him  in  every  need  —  when  they  are 
harassed  by  debt  they  want  his  legal  advice; 
when  they  are  sick  they  look  upon  his  presence 
as  medicine;  at  their  festivities  he  is  the  hon- 
ored guest;  and  at  the  approach  of  death  he  is 
more  than  the  official  of  the  church,  he  is  the 
companion  for  a  little  way  on  the  road  to  the 
region  of  the  blest.  When  the  Germans  come 
to  this  country  they  bring  their  loyalty  to  their 
church,  and  they  build  fine  buildings  for  conse- 
cration. When  the  Irish  become  American 
they  retain  their  loyalty  to  their  priest  and 
keep  him  as  their  friend.  The  German  chil- 
dren and  Irish  children,  however,  play  together, 
go  to  school  together,  speak  the  same  language, 
and  exchange  ideas.  Before  long  the  Germans 
begin  to  be  infected  with  the  Irish  loyalty  to 
the  priest,  while  they  find  their  pride  in  their 
church  in  no  wise  impaired.  The  Irish,  too, 
learn  from  the  Germans ;  they  still  are  as  fond 
as  ever  of  their  Father  Foley  or  their  Father 
O'Brien,  but  they  begin  to  be  ashamed  of  their 
church  buildings,  that  are  so  shabby  beside  the 
German  churches,  and  they  make  them  more 


274   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

tidy  and  try  to  improve  them,  and  finally  decide 
to  rebuild.  This  Irish  priest  told  me  that  he 
had  gone  West  gradually,  and  he  said  that  you 
could  see  the  difference  in  the  Irish  people  on 
each  stage  toward  the  setting  sun,  until  when 
you  came  to  Iowa,  say,  they  were  new  creatures 
entirely.  Before  I  bade  him  good-by  he  said 
to  me  —  and  he  knew  I  was  a  Protestant  — 
"We're  like  the  islands  of  the  sea;  separate 
on  top,  but  joined  together  down  below  the 
water." 

A  German  Methodist  of  the  Middle  West 
talked  to  me  very  frankly  about  the  people  of 
his  nationality.  Most  of  what  he  said  I  found 
elsewhere  confirmed.  Some  of  his  conver- 
sation with  me,  so  far  as  it  bears  on  this 
question  of  American  influence  upon  the  reli- 
gious life  of  immigrants,  is  worth  quoting. 

"About  thirty  per  cent.,  I  should  say,  of 
German  immigrants,"  was  his  statement,  "  keep 
up  their  connections  with  the  established 
churches  —  those  are  the  Lutheran  and  the 
Reformed.  The  majority  of  these  you  would 
find  difficult  to  distinguish  from  Catholics; 
they  only  go  to  their  churches  occasionally,  and 
then  not  out  of  individual  conviction  —  more 
out  of  custom  and  conformity.     Most  German 


THE   LEAVEN   AND  THE   LUMP      275 

immigrants  keep  away  from  the  established 
churches  because  they  are  among  the  things 
for  which  they  left  Germany.  It  is  very  hard 
to  work  among  such  Germans,  because  of  their 
rationalistic  tendencies  and  conservatism." 

"  Both  rationalistic  and  conservative?  What 
do  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean  that  Germans  stick  to  their  views, 
whatever  they  are.  They  are  not  enthusiastic, 
especially  in  religion.  Germans  can  be  enthu- 
siastic in  politics  —  but  not  in  religion.  So  the 
churches  in  this  country  that  are  made  up  of 
such  people  not  in  the  established  churches  are 
liberal.  In  Germany  such  people  would  belong 
to  free  (that  is,  irreligious)  societies;  here 
many  of  them,  being  free  from  the  prejudice 
that  they  would  have  in  Germany,  belong  to 
churches.  These  churches  have  had  an  influ- 
ence on  the  Lutheran  Church,  and  consequently 
the  German  churches  in  America  are  more  lib- 
eral than  they  are  in  Germany.  For  the  same 
reason  the  Lutherans  are  more  '  spiritual '  here 
than  there.  Many  Lutheran  churches  have  but 
one  service;  but  if  a  German  Methodist  church 
is  near  by  they  need  to  keep  up  services  to 
save  their  own  people  to  themselves.  The 
tendency  in  German  churches  in  America  is 


276   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

toward  a  liberal  theology  (though  not  the 
'Kew  Theology,'  which  is  rationalistic  though 
religious.  The  ^ew  Theology  will  appeal  to 
the  better  educated  of  the  German  rationalists). 
In  the  East  the  German  churches  are  becoming 
too  much  Americanized." 

"  Why  do  you  think  so?  "  I  inquired. 

"  Because  when  Germans  become  American- 
ized they  ought  to  go  to  American,  not  German, 
churches.  The  German  churches  ought  to  be 
kept  for  those  who  want  to  go  to  church  where 
German  is  used.  There  are  a  good  many  Ger- 
mans who  use  English  in  business  and  even  in 
their  families  who  will  not  have  use  for  Eng- 
lish sermons.  That  is  because  they  think  of 
their  religion  in  the  German-Bible-language." 

This  conservatism  in  the  use  of  language  I 
noticed  as  a  force  frequently  destructive  of 
foreign  churches  in  America.  The  older  gen- 
eration holds  on  to  the  use  of  the  native  tongue; 
in  the  meantime  the  younger  people,  who  find 
English,  to  which  they  have  become  accustomed 
in  the  school,  on  the  street,  in  business,  and 
even  in  their  homes,  more  acceptable,  go  to 
other  churches;  then  when  the  older  genera- 
tion dies,  the  church  dies,  too.  This  has  been 
the    history    of    the    Huguenot    churches    in 


THE   LEAVEN   AND   THE   LUMP      277 

America  —  of  which  only  one,  and  that  now 
wholly  using  English,  is  left;  it  will  probably 
be  the  history  of  many  other  churches.  So  the 
foreign  streams  empty  into  the  American  sea. 

In  just  two  places  I  found  some  answer  to 
the  question :  Are  churches  or  individual  Chris- 
tians using  the  religious  motive  as  a  force  for 
making  out  of  these  foreigners  citizens  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  principles  of  the  Republic  and 
appreciative  of  its  gifts?  In  other  words,  to 
what  extent  among  these  foreigners  is  religion 
made  a  cause  of  patriotism?  In  both  cases 
where  I  found  an  answer  it  happened  that  the 
foreigners  were  not  Europeans;  in  one  case 
they  were  American  Indians,  in  the  other 
Armenians  and  Chinese.  Without  question 
these  two  instances  are  representative  of  many ; 
but  I  cite  them  to  show  not  so  much  what  is 
being  done  as  what  might  be. 

In  Kansas  there  is  a  school  for  Indians  car- 
ried on  by  the  United  States  Government. 
The  principal,  a  man  whose  stalwart  character 
was  well  expressed  in  a  physique  and  bearing 
that  were  emphatically  vigorous,  had  the  kind- 
ness to  give  me  a  glimpse  of  the  school  and  its 
work.  Strong,  clean  work  it  was  —  that  I 
could  see  in  the  shops  and  in  the  bearing  of 


278   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

the  students.  It  was,  however,  the  religious 
element  in  the  school  that  seemed  to  me  most 
significant.  The  principal's  sympathetic  appre- 
ciation of  the  religious  instincts  of  the  Indian 
was  very  keen,  and  to  those  instincts  he  appealed 
with  a  most  practical  tact.  "Our  discipline 
here  is  military,"  he  said,  "and  therefore  we 
have  always  had  a  guard-house  for  offenders, 
and  it  has  been  in  frequent  —  sometimes  daily 
—  use ;  but  discipline  here  is  not  merely  for  the 
sake  of  maintaining  order  —  it  is  supremely  for 
the  sake  of  inculcating  the  love  of  order.  So  I 
decided  upon  a  new  method  of  discipline. 
When  our  chapel  was  built  we  designed  it  so 
as  to  include  in  the  lower  story  a  gymnasium. 
I  want  our  students  to  associate  religion  with 
healthfulness  and  vigor  of  mind  and  body. 
When  the  building  was  ready  for  use  I  called 
the  students  together  and  I  said  to  them: 
'  Boys,  to-day  we  open  the  gymnasium  for  the 
first  time.  At  the  same  time  to-day  I  am  going 
to  close  the  guard-house,  I  hope  for  the  last 
time.'  The  guard-house  has  not  been  used 
once  since  then,  and  that  was  months  ago." 
That  is  one  instance  in  which  I  saw  religion 
used  as  a  force  in  preparing  aliens  for  citizen- 
ship. 


THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE   LUMP      279 

The  other  instance  was  in  a  IS^ew  England 
city.  Involving  more  didactic  effort  than  the 
case  I  have  just  described,  this  illustration  was 
somewhat  more  pronounced.  An  active  mem- 
ber of  a  large  Congregational  church  in  this 
city  had  been  for  years  interested  in  the  for- 
eigners that  had  drifted  into  the  services.  One 
day,  while  he  was  teaching  a  men's  class  in  the 
Sunday-school,  an  Armenian  presented  himself 
as  a  pupil.  The  Armenian  was  looking  for 
help  in  learning  English  and  in  finding  support. 
In  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  other  Armenians 
joined  him.  Before  long  the  teacher  had  to 
abandon  his  former  class  and  give  all  his  time 
to  the  Armenians.  "  I  told  them,"  he  said, 
"  that  if  they  would  come  regularly,  I  would 
teach  them  English  and  help  them  to  become 
good  Americans.  So  they  came,  and  this  is 
what  I  kept  saying  to  them  :  '  You  Armenians 
find  freedom  here  and  a  chance  to  live  and  be 
useful.  You  call  this  "  God's  country "  and 
you  are  right.  It  is  God  that  has  made  this 
country  what  it  is.  So  since  this  is  God's 
country  you  all  ought  to  be  brothers ! '  One 
day  a  Chinaman  appeared  at  the  Sunday-school, 
and  the  officers  of  the  school,  not  knowing  what 
else  to  do  with  him,  sent  him  in  to  me.     After 


280   THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP 

the  session  the  Armenians  came  up  to  me  and 
protested  against  having  a  '  foreigner '  like  him 
admitted.  'Look  here,'  said  I,  'when  you 
Armenians  came  didn't  I  put  up  with  you? 
Then  I  guess  you  Armenians  must  stand  the 
Chinaman.  Didn't  I  say  that  this  is  God's 
country  because  he  has  made  us  all  to  be 
brothers  to  one  another?'  So  the  Chinaman 
remained  and  other  Chinese  came.  One  day  a 
Chinaman  whom  I  knew  to  be  honest  and 
orderly  was  tormented  by  small  boys,  there 
was  some  disorder,  and  the  Chinaman  was  put 
into  jail.  I  immediately  bailed  him  out.  There- 
upon an  Armenian  who  had  been  constantly 
asking  for  financial  assistance  came  to  me  and 
said, '  You  help  the  Chinaman :  why  don't  you 
help  me?'  That's  the  failing  of  these  Arme- 
nians, to  be  begging  for  help.  I  said  to  him, 
'  I  didn't  do  anything  for  the  Chinaman  that  I 
wouldn't  do  for  an  American;  and  I  w^on't  do 
anything  for  you  that  I  wouldn't  do  for  an 
American.  This  is  God's  country  because  God 
has  put  people  here  on  their  own  reliance.'  So 
it  has  gone.  The  Armenians  have  organized 
an  Armenian  Congregational  church,  and  they 
worship  here  in  the  lecture-room.  As  the  older 
people  pass  away  the  church  will  disintegrate, 


THE  LEAVEN  AND  THE  LUMP      281 

for  the  younger  Armenians  prefer  touse  English 
and  unite  with  the  American  church ;  and  it  is 
better  so.  These  American  flags  and  streamers 
that  are  decorating  their  room  were  put  up  for 
the  Christmas  celebration;  they  chose  the  Stars 
and  Stripes  instead  of  evergreens  because  they 
are  beginning  to  see  now  that  Christianity  is 
helping  them  to  become  good  Americans." 

It  is  plain  that  the  Republic  and  its  foreign 
population  are  leaven  and  lump  in  turns.  My 
general  impression  may  be  briefly  stated  in  this 
wise:  The  effect  of  America  upon  the  religious 
life  of  immigrants  is  almost  uniformly  whole- 
some ;  the  influence  of  immigrants  upon  Ameri- 
can religious  life,  though  sometimes  temporarily 
demoralizing,  is,  on  the  whole,  decidedly  in  the 
direction  of  breadth  and  genuineness. 


:n^ew  sects  and  old 


A' 


XII 
NEW   SECTS  AI^D  OLD 

MONG  the  most  interesting  religious  bodies 
in  the  United  States  I  should  count  the 
so-called  fraternal  insurance  organizations. 
Strictly,  these  are  not  sects,  of  course,  yet  they 
have  many  characteristics  that  give  them  a  re- 
semblance to  denominational  bodies.  Indeed, 
each  of  the  most  miportant  marks  of  distinction 
which  exclude  them  from  being  popularly 
classed  among  the  sects  —  that  they  disclaim 
all  connection  with  the  Church,  that  no  de- 
nomination "  fellowships  "  them,  that  they  have 
no  order  of  clergy,  and  that  they  do  not  usually 
hold  their  stated  meetings  on  Sunday — can 
with  equal  truth  be  attributed  to  some  Christian 
denomination.  On  the  other  hand,  almost  all 
of  them  have  a  more  or  less  avowedly  religious 
basis.     Some  of  them  are  nominally  theocratic, 

285 


286  NEW  SECTS   AND   OLD 

each  having  its  own  epithet,  appropriate  to  its 
general  nomenclature,  which  it  applies  to  God. 
The  order  which  does  not  place  belief  in  deity 
and  in  immortality  among  its  principles  is  ex- 
ceptional. Possibly  this  is  because  insurance 
and  relief,  which  it  is  the  object  of  such  asso- 
ciations to  promote,  center  about  the  fact  of 
death.  Like  the  religious  impulse,  the  ethical 
idea  of  the  Church  and  the  fraternities  is 
largely  identical  in  terms,  even  to  the  cant 
title  "brother." 

More  obvious  resemblances  to  religious  de- 
nominations, however,  have  come  from  the 
adoption  or  imitation  by  the  orders  of  what 
in  the  Church  are  called  "the  means  of  grace" — 
the  Bible,  common  worship,  and  personal  piety. 
The  promoter  of  one  of  these  orders,  for  in- 
stance, told  me  that  he  began  by  selecting  a 
book  as  a  basis.  More's  "Utopia"  was  his 
choice.  Then  he  prepared  a  ritual,  formulated 
according  to  the  ideas  and  in  the  very  phrase- 
ology of  the  book.  Wherever  now  that  order 
has  spread — chiefly  in  the  Middle  West — there 
are  men  whose  feeling  toward  More's  "Utopia" 
might  be  described  not  inaptly  as  personal  de- 
votion. Other  orders  have  their  own  scriptures, 
their  own  rituals,  and  their  own  brands  of  piety. 


NEW   SECTS  AND    OLD  287 

"In  fact,"  the  disciple  of  More  said,  with  a 
smile,  after  describing  an  organization  named 
and  patterned  in  accordance  with  one  of  Scott's 
novels,  "it  is  not  uncommon  for  members  to 
be  heard  saying,  '  I  mean  to  read  my  Ivanhoe 
more ! '  or,  'If  we  only  lived  up  to  our  ritual ! ' — 
just  Uke  a  woman  in  a  prayer-meeting  I " 

The  real  religious  significance  of  these  orders 
seemed  to  me  strangely  overlooked  by  most  of 
the  church  people  with  whom  I  talked  on  the 
subject  in  various  parts  of  the  country.  As  a 
rule,  it  seemed,  according  to  their  view,  to 
consist  in  the  degree  in  which  these  orders 
competed  or  cooperated  with  the  churches.  In 
one  place  I  would  be  told  that  for  many  men 
they  took  the  place  of  the  churches  —  as  the 
real  guides  of  moral  conduct,  inculcating  a  sort 
of  remunerative  altruism;  the  real  teachers  of 
religion,  inculcating  in  place  of  faith  a  vague 
belief  in  the  existence  and  benevolence  of  God; 
and  the  real  leaders  of  worship,  supplanting  the 
clergyman  even  in  the  ministrations  for  the 
dead.  In  another  place,  on  the  contrary,  I 
would  be  told  that  they  made  deeper  the  ethical 
teaching  of  the  Church,  reinforced  its  religious 
influence,  and  cooperated  with  it  in  public 
worship.     The  more  fundamental  significance 


288  NEW   SECTS   AND  OLD 

of  fi-aternal  organizations,  as  I  learned  of  them, 
certainly  quite  irrespective  of  locality,  may  be 
stated  as  threefold.  First,  they  show  that  men, 
when  left  quite  free  of  any  ecclesiastical  direc- 
tion, are  still  strongly  governed  by  religious 
conceptions,  however  vague  and  undeveloped. 
Second,  they  illustrate  how  widespread  and 
spontaneous  is  the  impulse  to  express  religious 
and  ethical  ideas  by  ritual,  however  crude  and 
artificial.  Third,  they  express  concretely,  though 
in  a  rather  one-sided  and  selfish  form,  that 
social  consciousness  which  has  too  often  been 
left  by  the  churches  without  any  other  religious 
or  ethical  expression.  In  one  respect,  however, 
these  orders  are  fundamentally  distinct  from 
what  are  commonly  accepted  as  religious 
bodies:  in  no  case  that  I  heard  of  did  any  of 
these  orders  proffer  a  "  salvation  religion,"  or 
furnish  any  sign  even  that  its  religion  had  any- 
thing to  do  with  the  failure  involved  in  w^rong- 
doing.  This  is  perhaps  the  reason  why  these 
orders  are  not,  as  it  is  a  most  unanswerable 
argument  why  they  should  not  be,  accepted  as 
substitutes  for  the  Church.  Nevertheless,  even 
when  they  are  not  taken  too  seriously,  they 
constitute  an  interesting   and,  in   the  Middle 


NEW   SECTS   AND   OLD  289 

West  especially,  a  not  inconsiderable  phase  of 
religious  life  in  America. 

Distinctively  ecclesiastical  bodies  have  be- 
come so  numerous  in  the  United  States  that  the 
mere  brief  mention  of  each  of  those  I  chanced 
to  meet  with  during  my  journey  would  require 
an  article  by  itself  wholly  encyclopedic  in 
character.  The  most  depressing  impression  I 
received,  as  the  result  of  my  trip,  was  caused 
by  hearing  the  claim  of  one  sect  after  another 
to  be  the  most  truly  representative  of  the  real 
Christianity  of  Jesus  and  the  Apostles.  By 
meeting  in  person  and  in  somewhat  rapid  suc- 
cession, as  I  did,  actual  representatives  of  many 
different  theologies,  I  heard,  as  it  were,  the 
clamor  of  creeds,  and  saw  the  bewildering  con- 
fusion of  sects  that  has  been  the  result,  under 
the  conditions  of  absolute  religious  freedom 
peculiar  to  America,  of  the  popular  Protestant 
conviction  that  salvation  depends  upon  the 
acceptance  of  correct  dogmas.  Of  the  sects 
that  came  to  my  knowledge  there  are  two 
distinct  and  opposite  types.  One  depends  for 
its  existence  upon  the  identification  of  Chris- 
tianity with  some  invented  or  resuscitated  doc- 


290  NEW  SECTS   AND   OLD 

trine  or  body  of  doctrines ;  the  other  depends  for 
its  existence  upon  inheritance  from  historic 
reUgious  movements.  Ahnost  every  religious 
body  that  belongs  in  this  second  classification 
originated  either  from  a  protest  against  some 
prevailing  error  or  from  some  need  for  the 
assertion  of  an  inadequately  recognized  truth. 
In  almost  every  case  the  conditions  under  which 
the  denomination  originated  have  to  a  great 
extent  disappeared  (usually  because  of  the  ser- 
vice it  has  rendered)  and  the  denomination 
itself  now^  continues  chiefly  as  a  witness  to  a 
past  achievement.  Once  people  affiliated  them- 
selves with  one  or  another  of  these  denomina- 
tions out  of  conviction ;  now  they  belong  largely 
for  reasons  of  personal  convenience  or  family 
tradition.  Of  these  two  types — one  recent, 
the  other  historic  —  the  former  is  illustrated 
by  Christian  Science,  the  Christian  Catholic 
Church  in  Zion,  and  the  Reorganized  Church 
of  Latter-Day  Saints;  the  latter,  in  most  em- 
phatic contrast,  is  illustrated  by  the  Friends 
and  the  Moravians. 

In  view  of  the  rapid  spread  of  Christian 
Science,  it  was  somewhat  surprising  to  me  that 
I  made  the  acquaintance  of  only  a  single  votary 
of  Mrs.  Eddy's  cult,  and  that  was  in  Maine,  on 


NEW   SECTS   AND   OLD  291 

the  first  day  of  my  trip.  I  could  easily  have 
met  others,  I  suppose,  if  I  had  cared  to  search 
for  them  by  invading  any  of  the  numerous 
Christian  Science  Reading-Rooms  which  I  saw 
in  most  of  the  cities  I  visited;  but  I  did  not 
think  it  worth  while  to  pick  up  at  haphazard 
statements  concerning  the  tenets  of  a  sect  that 
has  been  so  assiduous  in  giving  to  those  tenets 
currency.  I  found  it  more  interesting  to  learn 
what  people  not  adherents  thought  about  it. 
Indeed,  on  several  occasions  I  discovered  that 
the  easiest  way  of  approaching  the  general 
topic  of  religious  life  was  by  introducing  into 
conversation  the  specific  subject  of  Christian 
Science.  Everybody  seemed  to  have  some 
experience  with  regard  to  it,  or  some  opinion 
concerning  it.  The  little  group  of  commercial 
travelers  I  fell  in  with  in  a  South  Carolina 
hotel  were  all  mightily  interested  in  the  tales 
of  healing  that  they  told  one  another  out  of 
their  own  fund  of  experience,  and  were  per- 
fectly frank  in  admitting  that  they  were  read- 
ier to  concede  the  claims  of  a  Church  that 
made  its  chief  business  to  do  away  with  disease 
and  suffering  than  the  claims  of  churches  that 
made  their  chief  business  to  preach  at  people. 
A  journalist  of  Missouri  remarked  to  me  in  the 


292  NEW    SECTS   AND   OLD 

course  of  conversation:  "The  churches  are 
weaker  than  they  used  to  be,  except  the  Roman 
Catholic  Church  (which  I  don't  understand) 
and  Christian  Science.  The  latter  seems  to 
appeal  to  men  especially.  This  is  partly  be- 
cause of  the  concreteness  of  its  appeal  " —  a  leg 
healed  here,  a  specific  disease  cured  there  — 
"  but  its  real  power  lies  in  the  fact  that  it  makes 
no  distinction  between  hearing  the  word  and 
doing  it " ;  in  other  words,  that  it  not  only  ac- 
cepts on  their  face  value  the  promises  of  Christ 
that  his  disciples  should  be  healers  of  disease 
as  well  as  he  was,  but  assumes  that  this  func- 
tion of  healing  is  the  very  essence  of  the 
Gospel  itself.  Most  significant  of  all  were  the 
comments  of  a  physician  in  Iowa.  I  asked  him 
if  he  thought  there  was  anything  more  in 
Christian  Science  than  organized  and  deliberate 
use  of  psychological  suggestion.  "Yes,"  he 
replied,  "  there  is  a  religious  principle  involved. 
You  will  be  surprised,  perhaps,  to  know  that  I 
have  a  considerable  practice  among  Christian 
Scientists.  I  think  that  is  due  mainly  to  my 
attempt  to  avoid  antagonism,  and  to  approach 
their  ailments  in  every  case  possible  from  their 
own  point  of  view.  If  there  is  an  amputation, 
I  remark,  '  You  cut  your  toe-nails,  don't  you  ? 


NEW   SECTS   AND    OLD  293 

Then  why  not  go  a  httle  further  up  and  cut  off 
the  foot  ? '  Or  if  there  is  need  for  surgical 
dressings,  I  inquire  if  they  do  not  use  soap; 
and  then  ask, '  Why  not  use  an  antiseptic? '  It 
is  easy  enough  to  argue  from  the  other  direc- 
tion, and  to  inquire  why,  if  they  do  not  use 
medicine,  they  should  not  dispense  with  food. 
Their  reply  is  always  that  the  reason  lies  in  the 
imperfection  of  the  individual  mind,  not  in  any 
defect  of  the  '  science.'  They  put  it  all  up  in 
the  air  where  you  can't  get  at  it;  so  I  accept 
their  theory  of  the  imperfection  of  the  indi- 
vidual mind.  In  many  respects  my  Christian 
Science  patients  are  the  best  I  have,  aside  from 
the  fact  that  they  pay  their  bills  (they've  been 
trained  to  do  that  by  their  '  healers  ') .  In  a 
Christian  Science  household  I  do  not  encounter 
the  flustered  state  of  mind  that  in  other  house- 
holds I  have  to  deal  with  as  well  as  with  the 
disease.  If  it  is  a  case  of  confinement,  for  in- 
stance, when  ordinarily  there  is  a  great  deal 
of  nervousness,  in  the  Christian  Science  house- 
hold everything  is  accepted  as  natural,  as  in 
harmony  with  the  mind  of  God."  In  addition 
to  human  credulity,  which  has  so  often  served 
as  a  cavalier  explanation  of  any  religious  phe- 
nomena, it  was  to  one  or  all  of  these  three  char- 


294  NEW   SECTS   AND   OLD 

acteristics  of  Christian  Science  —  its  appeal 
through  the  concrete,  its  identifying  its  faith 
with  practice,  and  its  effectiveness  in  producing 
serenity  of  mind  by  the  easy  method  of  denying 
the  existence  of  any  cause  for  disturbance  — 
that  non-adherents  accounted  for  its  growth. 

Divine  healing  is  the  special  stock  in  trade 
of  a  number  of  new  sects,  among  them  the  so- 
called  "  Christian  Catholic  Church  in  Zion  "  — 
an  enterprise  promoted  by  a  man  named  Dowie. 
Chicago,  eager  if  undiscriminating,  is  the  Rome 
for  this  pope  —  the  wilderness  for  this  Elijah, 
this  John  Baptist,  to  use  his  own  titles  for  him- 
self. One  Sunday  afternoon  I  went  to  the 
building  used  as  headquarters  of  the  new  Zion. 
I  was  directed  to  "  follow  the  crowd."  As  I  left 
the  building,  a  short,  corpulent  man,  with  a 
long  gray  beard,  hurried  by  me,  giving  me  a 
searching  glance  as  he  passed.  I  recognized 
him  from  his  pictures  on  the  placards  posted 
about  the  city.  He  drove  off  in  a  carriage 
drawn  by  a  pair  of  spirited  horses  driven  by  a 
liveried  coachman.  I  made  my  way  on  foot  to 
the  "  tabernacle,"  and  entered  among  a  throng 
of  ordinary-looking  people.  At  the  farther 
end  of  the  "  tabernacle,"  back  of  the  platform, 


NEW   SECTS  AND   OLD  295 

were  tiers  of  seats,  like  those  for  a  chorus  in  a 
concert  hall,  in  the  midst  of  which  was  a  reed 
organ.  On  the  walls  were  hung  trophies  sup- 
posed to  have  been  obtained  from  converts, 
and  displayed  as  tokens  of  their  release  from 
their  ills  and  superstitions :  in  one  place  a  de- 
sign composed  of  crutches;  in  another  the 
word  "  drugs  "  spelled  out  in  empty  medicine- 
bottles;  in  another  a  decoration  consisting  of 
rosaries  and  Roman  Cathohc  charms;  in  an- 
other a  sort  of  tapestry  made  of  insurance 
orders'  certificates;  and  in  yet  another  a  cross 
formed  by  hot-water  bags  I  The  body  of  the 
house  was  filled  with  people,  and  the  semicircu- 
lar galleries  were  well  occupied.  A  woman  in 
white  vestments  was  playing  a  prelude  on  the 
organ.  Soon  the  audience  rose.  Coming  up 
the  aisle  were  children,  walking  slowly  by  twos, 
wearing  white  vestments  and  holding  open 
books  in  their  hands;  they  mounted  the  steps 
to  the  platform,  then,  separating,  filed  up  from 
either  side  into  the  tiers  of  seats.  The  full 
length  of  the  aisle  was  filled  twice  over  with 
children  before  there  appeared  a  division  of 
young  women  similarly  vested,  and  with  mortar- 
board caps.  As  they  approached  the  plat- 
form they  began  to  sing  "  Crown   him  with 


296  NEW    SECTS    AND   OLD 

many  crowns."  Then  following  came  a  choir 
of  young  men  in  caps  and  white  vestments; 
after  these  white-robed  ones  came,  in  black 
gowns  and  mortar-board  caps,  first  a  choir  of 
middle-aged  women,  then  one  of  middle-aged 
men.  These  followed  the  others  up  on  the 
platform,  but,  the  tiers  of  seats  being  filled, 
streamed  into  the  front  rows  of  the  galleries. 
At  the  end  of  the  procession  walked  the  stout, 
gray-bearded  man,  now  dressed  in  a  black 
gown  with  bishop's  sleeves  and  a  hood  of 
white,  yellow,  and  purple.  When  he  reached 
the  platform  and  turned,  the  music  stopped  and 
all  the  men  removed  their  caps.  No  theatrical 
device  could  have  more  effectually  concentrated 
attention  upon  the  central  personage.  He 
raised  his  hand  dramatically,  and  in  resonant, 
assertive  tones  pronounced  a  benediction. 
Thereupon  began  the  most  wearisome,  in  some 
respects  the  most  interesting,  and  I  think  the 
strangest  service  I  ever  attended,  original  not 
so  much  in  any  new  feature  as  in  the  ingenious 
combination  of  features  from  many  sources: 
the  canticles,  hymns,  and  vestments  of  the 
Church  of  England,  the  priestly  dominance  of 
the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  the  assumption  of 
divine  healing  of  the  Christian  Scientist,  the 


NEW   SECT;S  AND   OLD  297 

reference  to  immersion  of  the  Baptist  sects, 
the  exhorting  of  the  Methodist  evangelist,  and 
the  promise  of  the  theocratic  community  of  the 
Mormon.  The  audience  seemed  to  submit  with 
pleasure  to  the  domineering  autocracy  of  their 
leader.  When  he  gave  out  the  notices,  he 
spent  three-quarters  of  an  hour  in  setting  forth 
the  virtues  of  his  various  business  ventures  — 
the  publishing  business  of  Zion,  the  great  Zion 
excursion,  and  the  subscription  for  stock  in  the 
new  Zion  city  lots. 

"  Keep  the  books  of  Zion  for  people  to  look  at, 
but  don't  lend!  The  great  mass  of  mankind 
are  great  book-keepers.  .  .  .  You  have  great 
readiness  to  borrow  books,  especially  when 
you  can  buy  them  yourselves,  you  wretches  I 
.  .  .  The  Zion's  Banner  will  be  the  news, 
eliminating  the  lies  that  are  common  in  the 
papers.  .  .  .  This  will  give  me  a  chance  to 
deal  with  things  that  I  haven't  felt  justified 
in  dealing  with  in  the  Leaves  of  Healing,  and 
I  shall  deal  with  them,  too;  I've  never  been 
afraid  of  men.  .  .  .  We  guarantee  no  land  of 
the  first  series  after  May  31st,  and  the  second 
series  will  be  higher  in  price.  .  .  .  We  have  a 
right  to  charge  the  laggards  for  indolence.  .  .  . 
Pray  for  me  about  this.     I  don't  like  to  talk 


298  NEW    SECTS   AND   OLD 

this  business,  but   it   is   my  only  chance,  and 
this  is  God's  business,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  came  the  answer  from  some  thousand 
throats. 

"  Prairie  schooners  are  on  their  way  to  Zion 
city.  Some  are  staying  on  the  land.  People 
coming  from  England,  Germany,  Australia. 
In  Canada  from  a  little  country  place  twenty 
are  coming.  You  Chicago  people  will  wake 
up  to  find  yourselves  outside.  I'll  be  rather 
glad  to  see  you  in  the  outer  darkness,  weeping 
and  wailing  and  gnashing  your  teeth  to  see  the 
Canadians  on  the  inside.  I'm  not  much  of  a 
business  man — I'm  an  innocent — that's  what 
they  say.  A  lady  got  'Dr.'  Dowie  to  pray 
about  selling  land — and  she  sold  it,  not  at  a  loss 
either,  but  at  a  gain!  .  .  .  Give  your  wife  half — 
that  is,  if  she's  in  Zion;  if  not,  don't  give  her 
anything.  .  .  .  Overseer  Jane  Dowie,  pray  for 
her.  Can  I  send  her  a  cablegram  sending  her 
love?" 

"Yes,"  came  the  reply  from  the  audience, 
like  a  distant  roll  of  thunder,  as  they  held  up 
their  hands. 

"  A  young  Frenchman  in  Paris  has  given  up 
tobacco,  wine,  swine' s-flesh,  and  gambling.  I 
want  you  to  pray  for  him." 


XEW   SECTS   AND   OLD  299 

"  Yes." 

"  Some  of  these  impudent  papers  say  I  have 
a  mighty  soft  place.  Huh!  When  my  wife 
comes,  she'll  back  me  up.  ISTow,  then!  Have 
you  forgotten  all  I've  said  already?  .  .  .  Next 
Lord's  Day  there  will  be  baptism  by  triune 
immersion." 

This  may  give  an  idea  of  his  methods  of 
financing  his  enterprise.  It  did  not  sound 
much  like  the  ordinary  appeal  for  church  or 
missionary  funds. 

In  his  sermon,  which  he  delivered  in  front  of 
his  pulpit  with  much  shouting,  stamping,  and 
pounding,  he  displayed  what  his  followers 
doubtless  interpreted  as  moral  passion,  but 
what  sounded  much  like  savagely  exuberant 
delight  in  the  rhetoric  descriptive  of  the  evils 
he  denounced. 

"...  Don't  talk  as  if  death  were  good.  It 
is  hateful,  hellish,  king  of  terrors;  it  never 
blesses,  but  always  curses.  .  .  .  The  false 
teachings  of  the  apostate  churches  have  led 
people  to  think  that  death  is  of  God.  It  is 
from  the  devil.  ...  I  plead  for  love  that  will 
overcome  lust,  life  that  will  overcome  death, 
health  that  will  overcome  disease.  May  God 
give  us  that  love  I " 


300  NEW   SECTS   AND   OLD 

"Amen,"  fervently  responded  the  audience. 

"Did  he  love  us  as  himself?     Answer  meP'^ 

"  Yes." 

"Did  he  love  us  better  than  himself?" 

"Yes." 

"  Then  vre  should  love  him,  and  love  others 
better  than  ourselves.  Do  you  want  that 
love?" 

"Yes." 

"  Then  rise  and  ask  for  it." 

He  offered  a  petition,  stopping  at  the  end  of 
each  phrase  for  the  people  to  repeat  it  after 
him.  During  this  prayer,  as  during  every 
other  prayer  in  the  service,  the  demeanor  of 
the  congregation  was  extraordinarily  devout. 

"Did  you  mean  it?" 

"Yes." 

"  During  the  recessional  hold  your  hearts  in 
adoration." 

The  hymn,  a  long  one,  was  sung  five  tunes 
over  before  all  the  chorus  (there  must  have 
been  some  two  hundred  and  fifty)  disappeared. 

When  I  left,  at  the  end  of  three  hours,  a 
large  part  of  the  people  were  departing;  but 
even  then  a  negro  was  preparing  on  the  plat- 
form the  utensils  for  the  Communion  service 
that  was  to  follow.     I  was  glad  to  get  into  the 


NEW  SECTS   AND    OLD  301 

clearer  air  outside,  and,  by  a  brisk  walk  along 
the  edge  of  the  lake,  to  shake  off  the  feeling 
of  helplessness  that  seemed  to  be  contagious  in 
that  fold  of  submissive  sheep. 

It  was  also  in  Chicago  that  I  had  a  glimpse 
of  the  seamy  side  of  irresponsible  religious 
Caesarism.  The  sign  on  a  building  announced 
that  here  was  a  mission  of  the  Reorganized 
Church  of  Latter-Day  Saints.  A  little  girl  in 
a  torn  and  dirty  dress  answered  my  summons. 
She  conducted  me  through  a  bare,  dirty  hall- 
way to  a  room  upstairs  and  called  for  her 
mother.  A  woman,  whose  hair  hung  down  in 
strings  on  either  side  of  her  rather  sallow  face, 
and  whose  dress  was  almost  as  torn  and  dirty 
as  the  girl's,  appeared  and  asked  me  what  I 
wanted.  When  she  learned  that  I  was  inter- 
ested in  her  religion,  the  expression  of  her  face 
changed  from  that  of  vacant  weariness  to  an 
earnestness  that  was  almost  luminous.  For  an 
hour,  it  may  have  been  longer,  she  talked  to  me 
of  her  faith.  She  explained  how  wicked  had 
been  the  lapse  of  the  Mormons  from  the  teach- 
ings of  Joseph  Smith;  how  the  remnant  of 
true  believers  had  been  basely  defrauded  of 
their  name  as  the  real  Church  of  Latter-Day 


302  NEW   SECTS   AND  OLD 

Saints;  how  impossible  it  was  for  more  than 
one  genuine  Church  of  Christ  to  exist;  and 
how  it  happened  that,  because  of  the  introduc- 
tion of  false  revelations  in  favor  of  polygamy, 
the  one  true  Church  had  been  reduced  to  the 
body  of  believers  who,  forced  to  call  themselves 
Reorganized,  and  commonly  known  as  "  non- 
polygamous  Mormons,"  now  have  their  head- 
quarters in  Iowa.  She  expounded  the  Scrip- 
tures to  show  that  triple  immersion  and  laying 
on  of  hands,  both  ordinances  only  as  properly 
administered,  were  essential  to  salvation.  She 
showed  me  the  room  in  which  the  services  were 
held,  and  when  I  took  my  departure  put  into 
my  hands  some  tracts  and  leaflets  setting  forth 
the  doctrines  upon  which  the  hope  of  the  world 
depends.  A  masterful  mind  with  some  ingenu- 
ity in  constructing  dogmas  by  a  new  juxtaposi- 
tion of  Scripture  texts  —  that  seems  to  be  one 
element  common  to  all  these  "new"  sects. 
The  other  element  is  furnished  by  that  host  of 
people  who  like  to  be  mastered  because  it  saves 
them  trouble. 

"We  believe  that  the  canon  of  Scripture  is 
not  full,  but  that  God,  by  his  Spirit,  will  con- 


NEW   SECTS   AND   OLD  303 

tinue  to  reveal  his  word  to  man  until  the  end 
of  time."  This  statement,  which  is  from  one 
of  these  pamphlets  of  the  "non-polygamous 
Mormons,"  represents  the  crude  form  of  a  pro- 
foundly religious  belief  which  has  never  been 
wholly  without  voice  in  the  Christian  Church. 
That  the  Holy  Spirit  is  always  directly  inspir- 
ing the  words  and  the  acts  of  believers  was  the 
conviction  of  the  Christians  in  the  Apostolic 
age,  and  the  distinguishing  doctrine  of  the 
Montanists.  In  modern  times  it  has  found 
most  adequate  expression  with  the  Friends. 
So  wide  has  been  their  influence,  and  so  happily 
has  this  influence,  unpolemically  exerted,  been 
reinforced  by  modern  conceptions  of  the  imma- 
nence of  God,  that  to-day  the  idea  of  the 
"  Inner  Light,"  in  fact  if  not  in  name,  has  been 
accepted  among  all  bodies  of  Christians.  It  has 
even  been  formulated  into  harsh  creeds  of  recent 
manufacture,  to  do  service  for  some  new  cult 
and  to  justify  some  Arcana  Coelestia,  or  Book 
of  Mormon,  or  Key  to  the  Scriptures.  In  the 
meantime,  as  this  belief  has  become  less  dis- 
tinctive of  the  Friends,  it  has  apparently  lost 
its  hold  upon  them.  I  tried  to  discover  the 
reason  for  this  from  a  Friend  minister.     He 


304  NEW    SECTS    AND   OLD 

had  remarked  that  the  Friends  as  a  body  had 
not  accepted  the  conclusions  of  the  Higher  Criti- 
cism of  the  Bible.^ 

"  Then  they  beheve  in  the  infalUbihty  of  the 
Bible,  and  accept  it  as  the  ultimate  authority?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  said  emphatically,  "  we  hold  close 
to  the  Bible." 

"  You  believe  that  there  is  inspiration  of  men 
to-day?" 

"Yes.  Shakespeare  and  Longfellow  were 
inspired  in  a  sense,  but  not  as  the  holy  men 
of  old." 

"  How  about  the  holy  men  of  to-day?  " 

"  Yes,  they  are  inspired,  we  believe,  but  are 
capable  of  error." 

"  Then  the  Holy  Spirit  does  not  inspire  infal- 
libly, as  in  ancient  times?  " 

He  made  a  reference  to  the  changes  in  revis- 
ing the  King  James  Version,  the  pertinence  of 
which  I  did  not  understand,  and  concluded  by 
saying  that  the  errors  were  so  slight  that  they 
occasioned  no  difficulty.     Then,  after  a  discus- 


•  Neither  this  statement  concerning  "  Higher  Criticism  "  nor  the  preceding 
one  concerning  the  "  Inner  Light  "  is  to  be  considered  as  universally  true  of 
the  whole  body  of  Friends.  This  Friend  minister  would  find  other  Friends 
strongly  disagreeing  with  him.  Nevertheless  his  statements  are  true  of 
certain  Friends  and  represent  some  existing  tendencies  which  are  in  thor- 
ough accord  with  the  proneness  of  human  nature  to  substitute  the  mechani- 
cal for  the  vital. 


NEW   SECTS  AND   OLD  305 

sion  as  to  the  source  of  authority  for  the  accept- 
ance of  the  canon,  he  finally  dismissed  the 
subject  by  saying,  "  In  the  providence  of  God, 
the  Bible  is  here  as  we  find  it."  The  only  con- 
clusion to  which  this  conversation  could  lead 
was  that  the  desire  for  an  outward  and  visible 
repository  of  authority  was  too  strong  for  a 
faith  in  an  Inner  Light  that  was  originally  less 
a  dogma  than  an  experience. 

Like  the  Fi-iends,  the  Moravians  seem  to  find 
reason  for  separate  existence  as  a  religious 
body,  not  in  doctrinal  distinctions,  but  in  his- 
toric continuity.  So  long  as  there  are  differ- 
ences of  denomination  which  make  impossible 
organic  unity  of  the  Christian  Church,  there  is 
no  better  reason  for  the  separate  existence  of 
any  religious  body  than  a  great  history;  and 
certainly  that  reason  the  Moravians  abundantly 
have.  The  sign  that  even  this  reason  is  no 
longer  as  effectual  as  it  was  is  evident  in  the 
waning  of   some  of   their  customs.     Many  of 

their  observances,  howevei for  instance,  the 

Easter  service  at  dawn  in  the  old  burying- 
ground,  or  the  announcement  of  deaths  by 
chorales  played  by  four  trombonists  from  the 
church  belfry,  the  second  chorale  being  always 


306  NEW   SECTS   AND   OLD 

that  designated  by  custom  as  appropriate  to  the 
age  of  the  one  whose  death  is  announced  —  are 
still  vigorously  maintained,  and  are  certainly 
very  beautiful.  The  historic  preeminence  and 
present  activity  of  the  Moravian  Church  in  mis- 
sionary enterprise  is  too  well  known  to  need 
more  than  mere  mention.  Compared  with  the 
competing  and  disputatious  sects  of  the  Middle 
West,  the  Unitas  Fratrum  —  as  the  Moravian 
body  is  strictly  called  —  as  I  saw  it  in  eastern 
Pennsylvania,  seemed  to  have  a  peculiarly 
untroubled  and  untroubling  faith. 

Bethlehem,  as  I  approached  it  in  the  train 
that  ran  along  the  picturesque  Lehigh  River, 
reminded  me  somewhat  of  Durham,  in  England 
—  only  there  was  not  the  squalor  that  disfigures 
so  many  cities  of  the  older  country,  and  there 
was  no  Cathedral  on  the  heights.  Of  all  the 
places  I  have  seen  in  the  United  States,  only 
Charleston,  South  Carolina,  and  New  Orleans 
approach  it  in  quaintness.  The  old  Moravian 
hostelry,  the  old  burying-ground  with  grave- 
stones lying  flat  on  the  ground  and  placed  in 
strict  order  according  to  the  dates  of  death 
without  regard  to  family  groups,  the  low  stone 
buildings  —  everything  in  the  old  portion  of  the 
town  seemed  part  of  a  fit  settmg  for  the  reli- 


NEW   SECTS  AND   OLD  307 

gious  customs,  the  musical  atmosphere,  the  his- 
toric liturgy,  and  the  traits  of  sturdiness, 
simplicity,  and  self-forgetfulness  in  the  charac- 
ter of  its  people.  I  remember  one  lane  in  par- 
ticular, flanked  by  high  brown  walls,  over  which 
hung  the  limbs  of  fruit-trees  in  full  blossom. 
Not  half  the  old-world  charm  of  the  town  has 
ever  been  described.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
people  have  been  so  frequently  caricatured  by 
over-enthusiastic  reporters  that  they  have  come 
to  be  thought  of  as  peculiarly  different  in  man- 
ners and  dress  from  other  folk.  An  editor  on 
whom  I  called  showed  very  plainly  that  he  was 
tired  of  being  "  written  up."  Ministers  were  at 
first  unresponsive  to  my  inquiries.  A  vivacious 
and  charming  member  of  the  Moravian  Church, 
the  wife  of  a  mechanical  engineer  of  the  iron- 
works, told  me  a  story  illustrative  of  the  wide- 
spread popular  fallacy  as  to  the  queerness  of 
the  Moravian  people.  She  was  one  of  a  num- 
ber of  young  people,  all  Moravians,  who  were 
among  the  guests  at  a  dance  in  Philadelphia. 
During  the  evening  she  was  introduced  to  a 
lady  of  evident  intelligence,  who,  after  some 
conversation,  exclahned : 

"  Oh,  have  you  seen  them?  " 

"Seen  whom?  " 


308  NEW    SECTS   AND   OLD 

"  Why,  the  Moravians.  They  say  a  party  of 
them  are  to  be  here  to-night.  I'm  just  dying 
to  see  them.  Why,  you  know,  it  will  be  just 
the  strangest  thing  I  They  wear  a  peculiar  cos- 
tume and  all  that.  I  wish  they  would  come.  I 
don't  see  what  makes  them  so  late." 

She  was  talking  to  a  Moravian  and  did  not 
know  it. 

In  one  respect  the  Moravians  are  a  peculiar 
people.  Their  church  music  is  a  heritage  they 
jealously  and  enthusiastically  prize.  IS^owhere 
else  in  America  has  the  St.  Matthew  "Passion" 
of  Bach  been  sung,  as  it  was  intended  to  be, 
not  for  a  concert  performance  but  for  a  church 
service,  with  the  chorales  taken  up  by  a  congre- 
gation of  people  who  had  been  familiar  with 
them  from  childhood.  It  was  in  Bethlehem 
that  both  the  Christmas  Oratorio  and  the 
so-called  B  minor  Mass  of  Bach  had  their  first 
complete  American  rendering.  During  my  visit 
rehearsals  for  a  three-day  Bach  music  festival 
to  be  given  by  a  chorus  from  the  community 
were  in  progress.  I  have  heard  technically  better 
singing  of  Bach,  but  none  so  convincingly  gen- 
uine. The  sight  of  the  children  who  were  in  the 
chorus,  and  the  sound  of  their  voices,  were  alone 
ahnost  enough  to  make  one  a  convert  to  the  faith. 


NEW   SECTS  AND   OLD  309 

The  account  of  the  ceremonies  of  the  church 
and  of  the  preaching  of  the  ministers  was  inter- 
esting. So  were  the  statements  which  two  min- 
isters made  independently  concerning  the  social 
conditions  among  the  workingmen  in  the  iron- 
works, the  rebuffs  which  the  Church  had  met 
with  from  the  representatives  of  the  owners,  the 
effect  of  the  breaking  up  of  family  life  by 
modern  conditions  of  labor,  the  consequences 
following  the  influx  of  foreigners,  and  the  rela- 
tion of  the  university  to  the  community.  But 
the  one  impression  which  I  carried  away  from 
Bethlehem  was  of  a  community  whose  charac- 
ter had  been  created  and  was  still  molded  by  a 
religious  faith  which  was  retaining  much  of  its 
pristine  power  through  the  use  of  traditional, 
but  vitaUzing,  forms  of  great  beauty. 


COLOKADO 


XIII 
COLOKADO 

THE  three  parts  into  which  places  innu- 
merable have  been  divided  since  Julius 
Caesar  wrote  his  Commentaries  have  their 
counterparts  in  Colorado :  the  City,  the  Resort, 
and  the  Camp.  It  is  true  there  is  a  fourth 
part,  the  Ranch,  which  in  certain  respects  is 
more  important  than  all  the  others,  for  the 
agricultural  products  of  the  State  form  a  larger 
part  of  its  wealth  than  its  minerals.  In  com- 
parison to  the  Ranch,  therefore,  the  City  is  a 
dependent,  the  Resort  is  a  parasite,  and  the 
Camp  is  a  poor  relation.  For  our  purposes, 
however,  we  will  assume  that  all  Colorado  is 
divided  into  three  parts. 

Those  who  go  from  the  East  to  Colorado  — 
whether  it  is  to  the  City,  or  to  the  Resort,  or 
to  the  Camp  —  are  put  to  a  thorough  and  very 

313 


314  COLORADO 

wholesome  test  as  regards  both  character  and 
rehgious  faith.  This  test  consists  in  being 
granted  a  very  great  freedom  from  the  con- 
ventional standards  of  morality  and  religion. 
A  case  somewhat  parallel  is  that  of  the  native 
of  southern  Italy  who  emigrates  to  America. 
In  the  country  of  his  birth  he  is  expected  by 
everybody  to  conform  to  the  observances  of 
the  Church.  In  his  adopted  country  he  finds 
many  who  conform  to  the  observances  of  other 
churches,  and  some  who  conform  to  none  at  all. 
For  the  first  time  he  has  the  choice  between 
religion  and  no  religion.  If  he  is  a  genuinely 
devout  Roman  Catholic,  he  will  continue  to 
attend  mass  and  perform  his  religious  obliga- 
tions. If  he  is  a  mere  formalist,  and  happens 
not  to  take  up  his  residence  in  a  community 
practically  transplanted  bodily  from  his  native 
soil,  or  to  come  under  the  influence  of  an  espe- 
cially active  priest,  he  will  fall  away  from  the 
practices  which  at  home  were  a  matter  of 
course,  and  be  content  with  having  recourse  to 
the  Church  only  as  a  matter  of  expediency  — 
and  habit  —  in  greatest  extremities.  The  result 
is  that  among  Italians  in  America  it  is  perhaps 
more  common  to  find,  on  the  one  hand,  open 
hostility  to  the  Church  than  in  Italy,  and,  on 


COLORADO  315 

the  other  hand,  more  vital  and  active  life  within 
the  Church  itself.  A  closer  parallel  is  that  of 
the  boy  who  goes  from  his  village  home  to  the 
city.  The  fact  that  in  the  village  he  is  known 
to  almost  everybody  binds  him  to  do  what  his 
family  and  his  acquaintances  do.  The  fact,  on 
the  other  hand,  that  in  the  city  no  one  he  knows 
will  notice  his  absence  from  church  or  his 
presence  in  the  dive  leaves  him  free  to  choose, 
and  he  will  choose  the  one  or  the  other  accord- 
ing to  the  inward  force  of  will  rather  than  the 
outward  force  of  opinion.  The  result  is  that 
among  young  men  in  the  city  are  found  both 
wilder  dissipation  and  sturdier  self-control  than 
among  the  young  men  of  a  village  community. 
In  much  the  same  way,  the  man  from  the  East 
who  goes  to  the  City,  the  Resort,  or  the  Camp 
of  Colorado  finds  himself  confronted  with  the 
necessity  of  making  his  own  choice  in  matters 
of  conduct  and  faith.  This  is  not  so  much 
because  he  is  presented  with  new  alternatives,  as 
is  true  in  the  case  of  the  immigrant;  nor  so 
much  because  he  is  no  longer  subject  to  the 
regard  of  interested  neighbors,  as  is  true  in  the 
case  of  the  village  boy  in  the  city  —  though  both 
these  facts  are  contributing  causes  —  as  because 
he  has  entered  into  a  life  essentially  uncon- 


316  COLORADO 

ventional.  In  the  East  a  man  gets  material 
advantage  by  leading  an  outwardly  respectable 
life,  and  even  by  being  identified,  either  in  per- 
son or  through  his  family,  to  some  extent  at 
least,  with  the  Church.  In  Colorado  an  out- 
wardly respectable  life,  it  is  safe  to  say,  is  not 
any  disadvantage  to  a  man,  but  it  is  hardly 
safe  to  say  that  in  the  Camp,  in  the  Resort,  or 
even  in  the  City  it  brings  any  immediate  visible 
reward ;  and  as  for  church  membership,  perhaps 
the  safest  thing  to  say  is  that  there  is  less 
excuse  for  moral  anomalies  among  church 
members  than  in  most  places  in  America.  The 
result  is  that,  according  not  only  to  what  I 
heard  of,  but  also  to  what  I  saw,  in  Colorado  as 
in  no  other  region  I  visited,  open,  unshamed 
violation  of  common  morality  exists  side  by 
side  with  genuine,  courageous,  and  single- 
minded  religious  faith  and  life. 

It  was  only  a  brief  glimpse  that  I  had  of  the 
City.  That  was  enough,  however,  to  include  the 
extremes  characteristic  of  the  State.  Denver 
is  a  city  of  many  fine  streets  and  some  forlorn 
quarters ;  of  dives  and  of  churches ;  of  nouvecmx 
riches  and  of  cultivated  men.  At  the  time  I 
was  there,  it  happened  that,  on  the  one  hand,  I 
heard  a  considerable  discussion  —  made  possi- 


COLOEADO  317 

ble  by  woman  suffrage  —  concerning  the  effect 
upon  municipal  conditions  of  the  votes  cast  by 
inmates  of  disorderly  houses ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  I  attended  a  reception  at  which  there 
were  present  the  presidents  of  four  important 
colleges.  ]!^o  city,  however,  can  wholly  with- 
stand the  encroachments  of  conventionalism. 
So  Denver  is  growing  more  conventional  —  in 
matters  of  institutional  religion  at  any  rate. 
Most  of  its  churches,  like  most  of  the  churches 
in  the  cities  of  the  East  and  the  Middle  West, 
have  been  moving  uptown,  following  along  in 
the  procession  of  the  respectable.  Some  of 
these  churches  are  very  prosperous.  One  in 
particular  that  I  saw,  owing  in  part  to  the 
natural  growth  of  this  Western  city,  owing  in 
part  to  the  efficiency  of  its  pastor,  seemed  like 
one  of  those  Western  corn-fields  in  which  the 
corn  grows  so  fast  that  you  can  hear  it  crackle 
as  it  grows.  But  this  church  was  composed 
mainly  of  what  an  Englishman  would  call  mid- 
dle-class people,  and  what  most  Americans 
think  of  when  they  visualize  the  great  Sovereign 
Citizen. 

In  spite  of  this  tendency  to  conventionality, 
one  man  I  met  has  remained  during  these  years 
an  apostle  of  the  unconventional.     This  was 


318  COLORADO 

"  Parson  Tom,"  as  he  is  universally  known,  the 
minister  of  a  Congregational  church.  He  was 
a  member  of  the  City  Council.  In  order  to  find 
him  I  had  to  go  to  the  City  Hall.  As  we  came 
down  the  steps  together,  a  man  and  a  woman, 
both  poorly  dressed,  stopped  him  and  held  a 
hurried,  brief  consultation  with  him.  The  par- 
son-councilman explained  that  this  man  and 
wife  had  come  to  him  for  a  chance  to  get  a  job 
under  the  city  government.  Here  was  one 
minister  who  believed  there  was  no  reason  why 
a  minister  should  not  use  for  unselfish  ends  a 
means  of  "reaching"  people  which  the  ward 
boss  uses  too  often  for  corrupt  and  selfish  ends. 
We  walked  along  the  street  to  his  new  church 
building,  then  in  process  of  construction.  A 
drunken  man  hailed  him  in  response  to  a  touch 
on  the  shoulder.  Two  little  children  greeted 
him  as  an  old  friend.  A  man,  evidently  a  day- 
laborer,  asked  for  a  chance  to  see  him.  So  the 
appearance  of  the  parson's  stalwart  figure 
evoked  from  one  after  another  expressions  of 
friendliness  and  confidence.  And  all  this  was 
on  the  edge  of  the  "  scarlet  district."  He  told 
me  stories  of  the  turmoil  in  the  city  occasioned 
by  the  influx  of  men  who  left  Chicago  during 
the  panic  of  '93;  how  troops  came  by  train  to 


COLOEADO  319 

the  fort,  how  the  banks  were  used  as  arsenals, 
how  with  others  he  had  succeeded  in  preventing 
starvation  by  supplying  the  men  with  bologna 
sausages,  how  he  had  had  to  address  the  crowds, 
how  with  others  he  succeeded  in  sending  the 
men  out  with  State  money  to  the  Missouri 
Kiver,  how  afterwards  in  Memphis  he  came 
across  a  man  who  said  to  him,  "I'm  one  of 
those  you  sent  out;  there  are  five  hundred  of 
us  here  working  on  the  levee,  and  we'll  give 
you  an  ovation  " ;  and  how  he  had  met  others 
of  those  men  in  all  sorts  of  places  between 
Chicago  and  San  Francisco.  The  minister  who 
has  had  influence  with  laboring  men,  individu- 
ally and  in  large  bodies,  under  both  ordinary  and 
extraordinary  circumstances,  is  rare.  The  views 
of  such  a  man  on  the  rehgious  life  of  working- 
men  are,  I  think,  worth  summarizing.  In  the 
first  place,  he  was  convinced  that  it  was  one 
thing  to  win  the  approval  of  the  labor  agitator 
and  quite  another  to  win  the  approval  of  the 
great  body  of  wage-earners.  In  the  second 
place,  he  recognized  certain  obstacles  in  the 
very  unconventionality  of  Western  life:  the 
unreligious  atmosphere  which,  though  uncon- 
genial to  cant  and  pretense,  is  also  uncongenial 
to    devoutness;    the    open    Sunday,  with    its 


320  COLORADO 

"  splendid  opportunities  for  staying  away  from 
church " ;  the  many  organizations  which  are 
more  attractive  to  men  under  ordinary  condi- 
tions than  the  churches  are,  though  wanting  in 
the  message  which  the  Church  has  for  great 
exigencies ;  and  the  tendency  of  the  Church  to 
revert  to  traditional  methods  even  under  such 
new  conditions  as  those  of  a  Colorado  city. 

We  soon  came  to  the  new  church  building. 
It  was  only  a  block  or  two  from  the  old  build- 
ing. He  explained  his  action  in  remaining  on 
the  edge  of  the  "  scarlet  district "  by  saying, 
"  If  you  set  a  trap  on  the  hill  to  catch  a  fish  in 
the  river,  you'll  be  a  long  time  catching  him. 
I've  got  about  two-thirds  of  the  city  to  look 
after."  Yet  his  work  was  very  far  from  being 
merely  what  is  termed  "rescue  work."  His 
chief  interest  was  in  the  poor  of  the  district, 
who  were  forced  by  circumstances  to  live  in  an 
environment  full  of  vice  and  shame.  He  felt 
keenly  the  unfairness  to  these  poor  of  permit- 
ting disorderly  houses  to  exist  among  them. 
He  has  shown  the  courage  of  his  convictions  by 
refusing  to  leave  this  district.  His  mother,  he 
told  me,  sharing  his  convictions,  shares  also  in 
his  work,  for,  though  she  is  seventy-five  years 
old,   she  drives  about   with    a   little  Shetland 


COLORADO  321 

pony,  distributing  to  the  needy.  And  now  that 
he  had  to  build  a  new  church,  he  chose  a  site 
where  it  would  primarily  serve  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  only  secondarily  be  accessible  to 
those  of  his  congregation  whose  lines  are  fallen 
in  pleasanter  places. 

In  the  Resort,  many  of  the  people  are,  of 
course,  enforced  idlers.  Since  they  are  there 
either  because  of  their  own  ill  health  or  because 
of  the  ill  health  of  some  member  of  the  family, 
such  people,  with  more  time  than  they  know 
how  to  occupy  wisely,  and  more  money  than 
they  know  how  to  spend  judiciously,  are 
strongly  tempted  to  welcome  their  release  from 
conventionality  by  releasing  themselves  also 
from  common  moral  obligation.  Those  people, 
therefore,  whose  conduct  in  the  East  is  bound 
chiefly  by  a  sense  of  propriety,  make  the  dis- 
covery, soon  after  their  arrival  in  Colorado, 
that  their  conduct  there  is  under  scarcely  any 
bonds  whatever.  Those,  on  the  other  hand, 
who  carry  their  m.oral  principles  with  them  find 
those  principles  as  unaffected  by  the  lessening 
of  the  pressure  of  conventionalism  as  by  the 
lessening  of  the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere. 
Take  away  the  sanction  of  convention,  and  the 
goats    of   their  own   free  will  separate  them- 


322  COLORADO 

selves  from  the  sheep.  A  sojourn  in  Colorado 
Springs  has  afforded  many  men  and  women, 
who  have  abundant  time  and  money,  a  very 
close  approximation  to  the  modern  theologian's 
conception  of  the  Day  of  Judgment.  Only, 
conventionalism  does  not  wholly  disappear ;  so 
the  approximation  is  but  earthly,  after  all.  It 
naturally  follows  from  all  this  that  such  people 
as  make  a  pretense  of  religion  in  the  East 
continue  in  that  pretense  when  they  reach 
the  Colorado  Resort  —  so  far  as  they  continue 
in  it  at  all  —  less  as  a  studied  means  for  self- 
advancement  than  as  a  habit  of  which  they 
are  more  or  less  unconscious. 

Such  a  condition  cannot  fail  to  strike  one 
who  cares  at  all  for  reality  in  religion  as  being 
constitutionally  wholesome.  In  the  first  place, 
it  prevents  the  sanctimonious  hypocrite  from 
deceiving  almost  every  well-informed  person, 
except  possibly  himself.  'No  circumstance  can 
ever  wholly  cure  self-deception.  In  the  second 
place,  it  makes  possible  a  genuineness  in  reli- 
gious life  which  is  at  best  limited  under  any 
other  condition. 

That  such  a  condition  of  genuineness  in 
conduct,  in  spite  of  its  concomitant  open  immo- 
rality, can  do  away  with  much  of  the  misun- 


COLORADO  323 

derstanding  between  organized  wage-earners 
and  organized  Christian  people  was  illustrated 
by  what  a  carpenter,  himself  a  man  not  only  of 
deep  religious  convictions  but  also  of  fine  fiber 
and  native  refinement,  told  me.  He  prefaced 
his  tale,  which  others  corroborated  and  partly 
amplified,  by  saying  that  industrial  conditions 
in  Colorado  Springs  had  been  for  years  excep- 
tionally easy.  There  had  been  such  a  continu- 
ous demand  for  labor  in  the  building  trades 
that  the  wages  of  carpenters,  for  instance,  had 
risen  in  nine  years  from  $2.75  a  day  to  $3.50, 
and  the  hours  of  labor  per  day  had  decreased 
from  ten  to  eight.  This  process,  moreover,  had 
gone  on  without  a  strike  and  with  only  one  in- 
stance of  temporary  suspension  of  work,  and 
that  had  occurred  by  a  misunderstanding  of 
the  state  of  affairs  on  the  part  of  outsiders. 
Under  these  conditions  the  relations  between 
employers  and  employed  had  come  to  be  pleas- 
ant. The  men  did  as  much  work  in  eight 
hours  as  the}^  had  been  accustomed  to  do  in 
ten,  for,  as  it  was  explained,  "they  feel  that 
the  conditions  are  happy,  and  want  to  make  an 
equivalent."  In  reply  to  my  inquiries  as  to 
how  these  pleasant  relations  between  labor  and 
capital  were  brought  about,  I  heard  from  more 


324  COLORADO 

than  one  source  the  following  story,  in   about 
the  form  which  I  give  it: 

Several  years  ago,  when  the  wage-earner  who 
was  mainly  responsible  for  the  undertakings  I 
am  about  to  describe  first  entered  "  the  organi- 
zation," he  was  convinced  that  the  mutual  feel- 
ing between  labor  and  capital  could  be  made 
more  cordial.  At  that  time  certain  strikes  in 
the  West  had  made  this  feeling  especially  bitter. 
At  Colorado  Springs  some  union  men,  of  rather 
fiery  temper  and  of  disposition  violently  opposed 
to  religion,  attempted,  in  spite  of  the  easy 
industrial  conditions  there,  to  intensify  these 
bitter  feelings.  The  member  of  whom  I  have 
spoken,  being  chairman,  could  not  take  the 
floor  to  counsel  a  better  spirit,  so  he  suggested 
that  the  union  institute  a  series  of  talks  on  labor 
problems,  make  the  meetings  open,  and  send 
special  invitations  to  ministers  and  to  employers 
of  labor.  The  first  speaker  was  selected  with 
great  care;  the  meetings  were  held;  a  number 
of  ministers  became  interested,  and  their  verdict 
was,  "Why,  this  is  Christian;  it  is  neither 
Anarchy  nor  Socialism."  Then  followed  labor 
conferences.  The  attendance  of  the  general 
public  grew  so  that  it  was  necessary  to  hire  the 
high-school  building   for   the  meetings.     The 


COLOKADO  325 

subjects,  instead  of  being  general,  were  selected 
with  regard  to  municipal  matters  of  current 
interest.  The  question  of  municipal  ownership 
of  street  railways  grew  out  of  the  refusal  of  the 
local  street  railway  company  to  hold  to  its  prom- 
ise of  granting  free  transfers,  because  it  was 
too  expensive.  As  this  materially  affected  the 
wage-earners,  they  took  up  at  the  conference 
the  cost  of  running  street-cars.  Investigation 
showed  that  the  company  was  using  money  to 
boom  suburban  lots.  As  Colorado  Springs 
owned  the  water  plant,  a  good  contrast  was 
afforded  between  private  and  public  ownership 
of  municipal  monopoly.  In  a  similar  way  the 
ownership  of  the  electric  light  plant  was  dis- 
cussed. The  country  was  scoured  for  informa- 
tion. The  result  was  that  the  rich  men  of  the 
place  and  the  wage-earners  met  on  the  common 
level  of  economic  facts.  The  personal  meeting 
brought  about  a  mutual  respect  for  intellectual 
qualities.  The  members  of  the  unions  and  the 
employers  caught  the  spirit  of  the  undertaking. 
They  learned  to  speak  easily  on  their  feet. 
Men  who  had  formerly  been  bitterly  opposed  to 
organized  labor  became  friends,  because  of  the 
reasonableness  of  the  unions.  Of  course  there 
was  no  lack  of  opposition  and  indifference ;  of 


326  COLORADO 

course  there  were  some  sad  experiences.  Cer- 
tain of  the  churches  and  the  ministers  failed  to 
fall  into  line.  On  the  other  side  two  of  the 
labor  organizations  proved  unruly.  One  of 
these  started  a  movement  for  higher  wages,  but 
failed  because  it  did  not  get  the  support  of  the 
other  unions  and  the  sympathy  of  the  pu])lic. 
The  movement  resulted,  not  only  in  a  failure  to 
gain  its  end,  but  also  in  a  distinct  loss.  This 
was  one  direct  result  of  the  conferences;  it 
gave  a  new  value  and  sanction  to  public  opinion. 
Another  result  was  that  the  suppoi-t  of  the  con- 
ferences by  certain  churches  and  ministers 
heartened  that  minority  in  the  unions  who  were 
genuinely  religious,  and,  as  was  shown  by  sub- 
sequent events,  gave  to  those  who  had  not  been 
in  sympathy  with  the  Church  a  new  conception 
of  institutional  religion. 

Such  was  the  situation  when  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  proposed  the  building  of 
new  quarters.  Until  then  the  Association  had 
done  very  little  to  bring  wage-earners  into  its 
membership.  After  these  conferences  proved 
successful,  the  member  of  the  union  who  had 
suggested  and  directed  them  was  chosen,  in 
spite  of  his  modest  protest  that  he  was  incompe- 
tent, as  a  member  of  the  Board  of  Directors  of 


COLORADO  327 

the  Association.  I  give  his  story  about  the 
building  as  nearly  as  possible  in  his  own  words: 
"  They  were  talking  about  getting  money  for 
the  building.  But,  as  I  became  acquainted 
with  the  new  secretary,  who  had  been  a  wage- 
earner  and  was  a  member  of  a  labor  union, 
'  Here,'  said  I  to  him,  '  I've  got  something  for 
you.  I  want  you  to  go  to  the  organizations.' 
And  I  had  this  advantage,  for  I  could  say, 
'  Boys,  here's  a  man  who  carries  his  card.' 
The  responses  were  generous.  I  was  strength- 
ened, you  see,  by  having  a  man  who  was  a 
wage-earner  with  me.  I  said,  'When  this 
building  is  finished  we  want  a  label  on  top.'  I 
spoke  to  the  teamsters,  and  we  got  a  contribu- 
tion from  them  of  forty  days'  work,  valued  at 
four  dollars  a  day.  They  gave  it  especially  on 
account  of  their  boys.  One  man  —  a  Bob 
Ingersoll  man -^  objected,  but  finally  he  gave 
one  day's  work  with  three  teams  —  that  means 
twelve  dollars.  Then  the  pick  and  shovel  men 
each  promised  to  give  from  one  to  three  days' 
work.  In  the  carpenters'  organization  the 
decision  was  to  give  one  day's  work  each  —  in 
cash,  fifteen  hundred  dollars !  So  it  went.  This 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  building 
is  to  be  built  as  the  cathedrals  of  France  were 


328  COLORADO 

built,  by  the  voluntary  and  cooperative  contri- 
bution of  the  labor  of  the  people.  When  the 
day  came,  the  organizations  left  their  work  to 
see  the  breaking  of  ground.  The  men  wore 
ribbons,  yellow,  pinned  on  labels,  and  they  were 
proud  of  them.  They  got  out  the  band.  They 
had  a  parade  three-quarters  of  a  mile  long. 
There  were  the  police,  the  band,  the  high-school 
cadets,  and  the  labor  organizations  with  their 
banners,  and  each  man  carried  a  flag.  This 
will  show  the  interest:  An  old  German,  who  is 
a  Grand  Army  man,  and  who  says  that  there  is 
only  one  holiday.  Decoration  Day,  because  he 
was  '  in  it,'  had  never  lost  a  half-day's  work 
otherwise;  but,  don't  you  know,  he  gave  half 
a  day  for  this  parade !  Another  man  gave  a 
dollar  and  said:  'This  is  all  I  can  afford,  but 
I  want  you  to  take  this  dollar  and  buy  some 
bricks,  and  mark  them,  and  put  them  in  the 
front  where  I  can  see  them.'  The  teamster 
who  was  to  haul  out  the  first  load  was  chosen 
by  his  organization ;  others  were  grouped  about. 
That's  the  way  the  ground  was  broken  for  the 
building.  While  this  good  feeling  exists  we 
want  all  to  have  a  part  in  the  better  things  this 
building  stands  for."  "Yes,"  he  added,  in 
answer  to  a  remark  of  mine,  "it  seems  that 


COLORADO  329 

I've  had  a  part  in  this,  for  which  I  am  very 
grateful." 

This  is  what  a  recreation  and  health  resort 
has  contributed  toward  the  solution  of  one  of 
the  most  vexing  problems  in  the  religious  life 
of  America/  It  is  unquestionable,  however, 
that  the  method  would  have  been  ineffectual  if 
it  had  not  been  for  certain  individual  men  — 
chiefly  three:  the  member  of  the  union  who 
suggested  the  project,  the  President  of  Colorado 
College,  and  the  Secretary  of  the  Association. 
As  in  every  other  successful  effort  for  practical 
religious  life  that  I  have  seen,  the  chief  agency 
in  this  was  forceful  personality. 

The  way  to  the  Camp  lay  over  the  snow- 
streaked  mountains.  The  train  crawled  up 
the  grade.  Soon  Colorado  Springs  lay  like 
a  map  on  the  table-land  below.  Up  went 
the  train,  along  gorges,  around  almost  spiral 
curves.  Suddenly  it  stopped  with  a  jerk.  The 
road  was  new,  and  the  melting  snow  had 
brought  down  a  mass  of  loosened  earth  and 
rock  upon  the  tracks.  Stock-brokers,  miners, 
bankers,   tourists,    left   the  train    and  walked 

1  The  Young  Men's  Christian  Associations  of  Cleveland  and  Dayton, 
Ohio,  have  succeeded  in  enlisting  the  cooperation  of  wage-earners,  though 
in  quite  different  fashion  from  that  I  have  just  described.  I  was  not  fortu- 
nate enough  to  include  in  my  observations  either  of  these  Ohio  cities. 


330  COLORADO 

ahead.  There  men  with  crowbars,  picks,  and 
shovels  were  clearing  away  the  debris.  Soon 
darkness  fell.  In  the  dim  light  of  lanterns  the 
huge  rocks  glistened  like  snow.  The  gorges 
grew  black  and  seemingly  bottomless.  The 
screech  of  a  whistle  echoed  and  reechoed.  A 
gleam  of  light  shone  on  the  rocks  and  was 
reflected  in  sinuous  golden  curves  on  the  edge 
of  the  rails.  The  passengers  who  had  gone 
beyond  the  landslide  scattered  to  points  of 
safety  as  the  train  from  Cripple  Creek  flashed 
and  rumbled  past.  Immediately  an  exchange 
of  passengers  was  made.  The  two  huge  loco- 
motives glared  and  snorted  at  each  other. 
Over  the  pile  of  stones  and  earth  between 
them,  human  creatures,  like  midgets  beneath 
the  masses  of  rock,  darted  in  and  out  of  the 
shadows.  A  man  carrying  a  rifle  guarded 
the  express  matter.  The  steam  from  the  en- 
gines formed  a  vast  sheet  on  which  the  moving 
shadows  of  gigantic  men  passed.  Prismatic 
blues  and  yellows  edged  this  sheet  of  vapor 
with  color.  Yet  this  scene  of  light  was  but 
a  spot  in  the  enveloping  blackness.  Deep 
down  I  knew,  I  felt,  but  could  not  see,  was  the 
precipitous  slope  of  the  mountain-side.     Then 


COLORADO  331 

slowly  the  train  started.  Within  the  car  the 
conversation  was  of  mines  and  stocks.  An- 
other sudden  stop.  Another  landslide  ahead. 
After  a  long  delay  the  obstruction  was  removed 
with  dynamite.  Then  hours  of  cautious  creep- 
ing in  the  darkness.  Suddenly  in  the  velvety 
blackness  below  gleamed  a  mass  of  constella- 
tions, as  if  these  heights  were  indeed  the  very 
border  of  the  earth,  and  we  were  gazing  down 
at  the  sky  beneath  us.  These  nether  stars 
were  the  lights  of  Cripple  Creek. 

It  was  after  two  o'clock  Sunday  morning 
when  we  reached  the  station.  From  a  street 
near  by,  brilliantly  lighted,  where  men  and 
women  could  be  seen  entering  and  leaving  the 
dives  and  resorts  of  vice,  came  the  sound  of 
dance  music  and  revelry.  At  the  big  hotel 
gambling-wheels  and  slot-machines  were  in 
evidence.  Yet  it  was  in  this  city,  which  is 
called  the  Camp,  that  I  found,  when  at  last 
daylight  returned,  a  church  with  as  vigorous 
and  genuine  a  religious  spirit  as  it  has  ever 
been  my  good  fortune  to  see.  Here,  in  the 
midst  of  a  district  which  comprised  a  popula- 
tion of  fifty  thousand,  where  ten  years  before 
there   had   been  nothing   but   grazing-ground 


332  COLORADO 

for  cattle,  there  was  evident  a  stalwart  faith 
that  is  rarely  developed  in  communities  out- 
wardly more  civilized. 

The  small  Congregational  church  was  filled 
with  a  congregation  made  up  largely  of  men. 
There  was  a  quality  of  spontaneity  in  the  ser- 
vice that  is  not  too  common  in  public  worship. 
The  sermon  was  rugged  in  diction,  thoughtful, 
and  genuine  —  every  word  of  it.  The  Bible 
class  after  the  morning  service  was  marked  by 
an  interchange  of  ideas,  real  ideas.  It  seemed 
incredible  even  at  the  time,  but  it  was  invigor- 
ating. I  had  occasion  afterwards  to  feel  the 
grip  of  some  of  those  miners'  hands.  That 
was  invigorating,  too. 

The  minister  explained,  as  he  pointed  out  the 
foundations  of  a  new  building  in  front  of  his 
church,  that  there  were  the  beginnings  of  a 
parish  house,  some  day  to  contain  a  gymnasium, 
swimming-tank,  reading-room,  and  other  means 
of  wholesome  recreation.  It  was  designed  to 
afford  young  men  some  other  place  besides 
"Hell's  Acre"  to  which  they  might  go  for 
amusement.  Where  was  the  money  to  come 
from  for  the  cost  of  construction?  The  min- 
ister did  not  know.  Nobody  in  Cripple  Creek 
seems  to  know  just  where  money  is  coming 


COLOEADO  333 

from.  One  thing  was  clear:  this  parish  house 
was  not  a  "  drawing  card."  As  the  minister 
stated  it,  in  order  to  get  hold  of  men  in  Cripple 
Creek,  it  does  no  good  to  shake  the  tree;  you 
must  pick  them  by  hand. 

This  method  of  building  the  house  is  char- 
acteristic of  the  Camp.  It  is  the  abode  of 
idealists.  "There  are  three  stages  in  the  history 
of  a  mining  camp,"  said  the  minister.  "  The 
first  is  the  stage  of  the  wilderness,  without 
habitation.  The  second  follows  the  discovery 
of  gold,  when  the  miners,  too  busy  in  the  early 
work  of  prospecting  to  think  of  comfort,  live  in 
shacks.  This  invariably  ends  with  a  destruc- 
tive fire.  Then  comes  the  stage  of  permanent 
liuilding.  It  is  when  the  miner  is  living  in  his 
shack  that  he  is  most  luxurious,  for  then  he  is 
really  —  in  his  imagination  —  not  Hving  in  his 
shack  at  all,  but  in  marble  and  in  down."  A 
church  in  a  mining  camp  cannot  wholly  escape 
this  idealism.  This  is  one  result  of  the  un- 
conventionality  of  Cripple  Creek. 

But  the  men  of  the  Camp  do  not  stop  with 
ideals.  They  are  men  who  do  things.  And 
the  church  is  of  the  same  sort.  A  church  of 
one  hundred  members  that  raises  eight  hundred 
dollars   in  one  year  for  missions  is  certainly 


334  COLORADO 

not  engaged  merely  in  dreaming/  The  active 
energy  of  the  churches  in  Cripple  Creek  is, 
however,  to  be  seen  chiefly  in  the  unorganized 
activity  of  their  individual  members.  In  this 
respect  the  Church  in  the  Camp  is  too  much 
like  the  Church  in  the  rest  of  the  world. 

It  is  true  that  even  the  Camp,  unconven- 
tional as  it  is,  has  not  been  exempt  from  doc- 
trinal controversy.  I  had  the  privilege  of 
hearing  the  end  of  a  debate  which  centered 
about  the  meaning  in  the  New  Testament  of 
the  Greek  verb  translated  "  baptize."  The 
minister  who  began  it  undertook  to  prove  that 
it  really  signified  "immerse,"  and  sneeringly 
challenged  a  reply.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to 
say  that  the  frequenters  of  "  Hell's  Acre " 
registered  no  protest  against  either  interpreta- 
tion. In  fairness,  however,  it  should  be  said 
that  this  exhibition  of  denominational  pertness 
was  probably  unusual,  and,  at  any  rate,  while 
it  lasted  was  marked  by  a  vigoi-  and  candor 
wholly  appropriate  to  the  character  of  the 
region. 

Above   all,  religion  in  the  Camp  is    saved 

1  A  few  months  after  the  date  of  my  visit  the  public  gambling-houses  were 
closed  and  the  professional  gamblers  driven  from  town.  This  was  due  to  the 
energy  and  courage  of  a  few  men  in  the  churches  backed  up  by  public 
opinion  and  the  integrity  of  a  judge. 


COLOKADO  335 

from  the  depredations  of  its  most  treacherous 
enemy  —  sanctimony.  The  sanctunonious  man 
is  to  l3e  found  there,  I  know,  for  I  saw  him,  but 
he  is  "  sized  up."  If  he  is  a  vicious  hypocrite, 
he  has  no  chance,  for,  as  one  man  expressed 
it,  "  vice  is  so  open  here  that  a  hypocrite 
can't  hve  a  loose  life  on  the  quiet";  conse- 
quently he  takes,  or  appears  to  take,  "  a  tre- 
mendous tumble."  If  he  is  merely  a  Pharisee, 
he  fares  no  better,  for  a  Pharisee  is  only  a  reli- 
gious or  moral  snob,  and  in  a  mining  camp 
there  are  too  many  grim  and  exciting  realities 
for  men  to  stand  in  awe  of  any  kind  of  snob- 
bery. The  practical  absence  of  all  moral  and 
religious  pretense  enhances  the  power  of  a  life 
governed  by  genuine  moral  principle  and  reli- 
gious impulse.  Good  com  is  more  efficient  as 
a  circulating  medium  when  practicable  coun- 
terfeits are  made  impossible. 

Certain  practical  results  from  this  absence 
of  pretense  were  evident  to  me  in  Cripple 
Creek.  In  the  first  place,  since  most  ojDposi- 
tion  to  religion  is  really  a  form  of  resentment 
against  imposture,  open  confession  of  religion 
in  Cripple  Creek,  just  because  it  was  almost 
certain  to  be  genuine,  appeared  to  meet  with  no 
ridicule  or  antagonism.     When,  for  instance, 


336  COLORADO 

on  Sunday  night  the  minister  and  I  entered  a 
disreputable  dance-hall,  our  presence  was  un- 
noticed although  my  companion  wore  a  clerical 
costume.  A  few  doors  away  a  "  Gospel  Mis- 
sion," with  dives  on  each  side,  was  being  con- 
ducted without  the  least  sign  of  molestation; 
and  near  by  in  the  same  street,  where  the  side- 
walks were  used  with  almost  the  same  freedom 
that  the  houses  were,  the  Salvation  Army  was 
carrying  on  a  meeting,  and  was  not  only  unmo- 
lested, so  I  was  assured,  but  also  thoroughly 
respected.  Such,  I  understood,  had  been  the 
experience  of  the  Salvation  Army  continually 
at  Cripple  Creek.  Indeed,  the  men  of  the 
Camp,  because  they  live  in  an  atmosphere  of 
hatred  of  cant,  are  emphatically  open-minded, 
and  will  give  a  hearing  to  a  preacher  as  scarcely 
any  other  body  of  men  will  do.  My  clerical 
Congregational  guide  said  that  he  often  had 
preached  to  crowds  on  the  streets,  and  had  al- 
ways been  respectfully  heard;  that,  in  fact, 
some  of  the  most  active  members  of  his  church 
he  first  saw  in  a  street  crowd  at  a  preaching. 
This,  then,  I  noticed,  was  one  result  of  the 
absence  of  cant  —  that  the  religious  life  was 
accorded  respect. 

In  the  second  place,  certain  methods  of  reli- 


COLORADO  337 

gious  work  that  elsewhere  would  have  the  taint 
of  conventionaHsm  and  would  seem  pietistic 
seemed  in  the  mining  camp  to  be  spontaneous 
and  genuine.  Neither  in  the  accounts  I  heard 
of  "  conversions  "  nor  in  personal  experiences 
in  the  church  did  I  discover  anything  either 
unctuous  or  perfunctory.  A  spirit  of  genuine-^ 
ness  invests  even  conventional  forms  with  new 
value. 

In  the  third  place,  the  freedom  from  pretense 
increased  the  value  of  the  test,  "  By  their  fruits 
ye  shall  know  them."  The  mine  superinten- 
dent who  succeeded  in  bringing  about  the  regu- 
lar closing  of  his  mine  every  Sunday  testified 
by  his  action  to  the  strength  of  his  rehgious 
convictions  all  the  more  because  he  curried  no 
man's  favor  by  his  action.  To  what  a  different 
tree  the  same  fruit  may  sometimes  bear  witness 
was  illustrated  by  another  mine  superintendent 
who  closed  his  mine  on  Sundays  while  his  wife 
visited  him  from  the  East.  That  bit  of  pre- 
tense was  not  indigenous  to  the  soil  of  the 
Camp.  When  left  to  itself.  Cripple  Creek  may 
be  immoral,  but  it  certainly  is  temperamentally 
sincere.  For  that  reason  I  could  more  readily 
believe  the  testimony  of  the  superintendent  of  a 
mine  that  he  wanted  religious  men  to  work  in 


338  COLORADO 

his  mine,  because  they  were  free  from  vicious 
habits,  they  were  more  efficient  workmen,  and 
took  more  interest  in  the  company's  welfare  and 
success  than  others  did.  Cripple  Creek,  just 
because  it  is  free  from  pretense,  places  upon  the 
religious  life  a  very  real  and  entirely  distinctive 
ethical  value. 

The  City,  the  Resort,  and  the  Camp,  each  in 
its  own  way,  set  before  men  with  unconcealed 
contrast  the  good  and  the  evil  from  which  to 
choose.  There  is  little  mingling  of  the  black 
with  the  white.  Somehow  it  is  very  wholesome 
—  this  facing  of  the  fact  of  evil,  and  making 
deliberate  choice  for  or  against  it.  Whether 
you  think  or  not,  as  I  do,  that  it  is  exhilarat- 
ing, it  is  certainly  true  that  in  Colorado,  as 
in  few  other  regions,  the  Church  has  a  freedom 
to  make  clear  that  there  is  no  compromise  be- 
tween the  evil  that  men  should  hate  and  shun 
and  the  good  that  men  should  choose,  the  Christ 
they  should  follow,  the  God  they  should  love 
and  serve. 


SATIS   SUPERQUE 


XIY 

SATIS  SUPERQUE 

THIS  book  really  ends  with  the  preceding- 
chapter.  Whatever  is  hereinafter  written 
is  almost  entirely  ontside  of  the  original  plan, 
which  was  merely  to  record  observations,  not 
to  make  wide  generalizations.  It  was  inevita- 
ble, however,  that,  as  a  result  of  my  journey,  I 
should  reach  some  general  conclusions  as  to 
religious  life  in  America,  as  readers  of  the  pre- 
ceding chapters  have  undoubtedly  already  dis- 
covered. Inasmuch  as  several  readers  of  the 
articles  in  periodical  form  have  expressed  a 
desire  to  know  what  these  conclusions  are,  it  is 
not  unlikely  that  others  may  have  a  similar 
desire.  For  that  reason  I  incorporate  into  this 
chapter  certain  questions  in  much  the  same 
form  in  which  they  were  put  to  me,  and  to  each 
one  attach  an  answer. 

341 


342  SATIS   SUPERQUE 

To  what  is  the  manifest  reaction  against  reh- 
gious  life  and  observance  in  New  Enghmd 
due  ?  —  to  a  laxity  in  theology,  or  to  an  intel- 
lectual revolt  against  the  doctrines  of  Puritan- 
ism? This  question  assumes  as  true  the 
decadence  of  religion  in  rural  ]N^ew  England, 
of  which  much  has  recently  been  said  and 
written.  That  decadence  has  been  sometimes 
over-emphasized.  The  picture  of  it  has  too  often 
been  copied  from  the  representations  of  the 
Yankee  who  has  fallen  into  the  habit  of  con- 
trasting with  "  the  good  old  times  "  all  the  evils 
of  the  present,  who  is  experiencing  "  the  sad- 
ness of  survival,"  and  makes  the  most  of  it. 
Nevertheless,  after  all  is  said,  some  decadence 
is  very  real.  It  has  unquestionably  been  ac- 
companied by  a  looseness  of  thinking,  a  flab- 
biness  of  mind,  that  is  evident  not  only  in  the- 
ology, but  in  all  intellectual  processes.  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  this  mental  softness  is  a 
result  rather  than  a  cause ;  that  it  is  in  part  a 
consequence  of  the  loss  of  distinctness  in  ideas 
that  is  suffered  whenever  men  replace  narrow 
conceptions  with  broader  ones;  and,  in  part,  a 
consequence  of  economic  change.  Much  of  the 
disregard  of  religious  observance  is  due  less  to 
a  deliberate  intellectual  revolt  than  to  a  natural 


SATIS   SUPEEQUE  343 

reaction  against  the  harsh  doctrines  and  more 
particularly  the  practical  severities  of  previous 
generations.  I  know  that  many  men  and 
women,  whose  childhood  was  made  miserable 
by  the  heartless  and  unlovely  form  assumed  by 
the  piety  of  their  parents,  have,  in  their  attempt 
to  avoid  making  their  children  miserable,  neg- 
lected to  give  them  even  elementary  religious 
and  moral  instruction.  The  uneducated  Yankee 
infidel  is  the  project  of  an  unintelhgent  reaction 
from  an  unreUgious  pietism.  Apathy,  however, 
is  more  serious  than  open  revolt,  and  the  dis- 
regard of  religion  in  'New  England  is  in  its 
nature  not  so  much  antagonistic  as  apathetic. 
The  cause  for  this,  I  believe,  is  not  reaction 
against  Puritanism,  nor  laxity  in  theology,  but 
a  social  condition.  ISTew  England  has  been 
gradually  but  steadily  bled.  Its  most  vital  ele- 
ment, the  enterprising  young  people,  has  for 
years  been  drawn  into  other  parts  of  the  I^ation. 
Religious  indifference,  as  well  as  intellectual 
inertness,  in  I*^ew  England  is  only  one  part  of 
the  general  languor  that  is  a  symptom  of 
anaemia. 

Is  there  likely  to  be,  under  present  theologi- 
cal conditions,  a  revival  of  genuine  religious 
behef  and  conduct  in  New  England?     If  there 


344  SATIS  SUPERQUE 

is  to  be  such  renewal  of  life,  two  conditions 
must  be  fulfilled.  First,  the  process  of  drain- 
ing off  the  best  elements  of  the  population 
must  be  diminished;  second,  there  must  be  an 
intelligent  and  deliberate  effort,  impelled  by 
enthusiasm,  to  adjust  the  work  of  the  churches 
to  the  changed  social  environment  and  intellec- 
tual temper.  In  diminishing  emigration  theo- 
logical ideas  can  of  course  have  no  effect. 
One  rural  district  in  Maine,  for  instance,  which 
thirty  years  ago  maintained  a  school  of  forty 
pupils,  now  sends  to  its  little  tumble-down 
school-house  only  four  children.  The  lifeless- 
ness  of  that  school-room  can  scarcely  be  imag- 
ined. One  day,  when  I  chanced  to  visit  it,  the 
mosquitoes  were  swarming  in  by  the  loosely  flap- 
ping netting  at  the  windows  because  the  teacher 
and  her  pupils  lacked  brains  or  energy  enough 
to  tack  the  netting  down  in  place.  Two  of  the 
children  were  almost  as  untrained  as  the  crea- 
tures of  the  woods.  In  another  country  school 
which  I  entered  during  recess  the  boys  were 
stupidly  gathered  about  the  window.  They 
had  not  life  enough  even  for  play.  They  re- 
sponded willingly  enough  when  I  proposed  to 
teach  them  the  game  of  "  duck  on  the  rock," 
but  inertly  ceased  all  play  as  soon  as  I  left 


SATIS  SUPERQUE  345 

them.  Such  communities  as  those,  where  even 
the  boys  lack  zest  for  outdoor  play,  do  not 
need  doctrine,  harsh  or  mellow,  but  an  infusion 
of  new  life.  I  think  I  am  not  alone  in  the 
opinion  that  already  present  economic  condi- 
tions are  permitting  New  England  to  recover 
its  vitality.  Moreover,  there  are  signs  that  the 
churches  are  trying  to  adapt  themselves  to 
the  changed  environment  and  intellectual  tem- 
per. Not  a  few  of  the  younger  ministers,  who 
recognize  that  religion  cannot  without  disaster 
be  severed  from  the  multiform  activities  of 
humanity,  are  using  their  wits  as  well  as  losing 
their  own  lives  in  introducing  new  elements  of 
vitality  into  communities  that  have  contributed 
their  native  elements  of  vitality  to  the  large 
cities  and  the  great  West.  In  one  respect,  of 
course,  religious  belief  —  as  distinguished  from 
ecclesiastical  dogma  —  is  at  the  source  of  this 
effort  for  adjustment;  for  when  ministers  be- 
lieve, as  they  do  far  more  strongly  than  they 
did  a  generation  or  two  ago,  that  God  is  in  all 
his  world,  that  his  kingdom  is  not  a  mere 
demesne  around  the  pulpit  and  the  "family 
altar,"  but  an  all-inclusive  empire,  they  will 
not  be  satisfied  with  letting  economic  and  social 
reinvigoration  come  as  the  selfishness  of  men 


346  SATIS   SUPERQUE 

may  dictate  without  the  contributing  force  of 
rehgious  impulse.  What  sacrifice  such  belief 
may  involve  is  indicated  by  the  experience  of  a 
certain  young  minister  who  went  directly  from 
the  theological  seminary  into  a  lumber  town  of 
New  Hampshire.  There,  under  the  auspices 
of  the  missionary  society  of  his  denomination, 
he  organized  a  church.  Highly  educated,  he 
devoted  his  mental  acquirements  to  the  im- 
provement of  the  town  schools.  Athletic,  he 
used  his  physique  in  compelling  the  disorderly 
element  in  the  population  to  respect  if  not 
wholly  to  obey  the  laws.  Bred  in  the  lumber 
regions,  he  helped  to  cut  the  wood  for  the 
church  building  he  succeeded  in  erecting. 
Broad  in  his  sympathies  and  interests,  he  in- 
cluded in  his  church  building  a  reading-room 
and  gymnasium.  Distrustful  of  traditionalism, 
he  did  not  hesitate  to  make  his  preaching  and 
teaching  accord  with  modern  knowledge. 
Strongly  evangelical  in  temperament,  he  drew 
people  into  the  church  by  the  earnestness  with 
which  he  declared  his  faith  in  the  power  of  his 
crucified  and  risen  Master,  Christ.  At  the  end 
of  a  few  years  —  perhaps  some  half-dozen — he 
had  transformed  that  community.  But  he  had 
given  his  life.     From  sheer  exhaustion  he  died, 


SATIS   SUPERQUE  347 

broken  down  in  health  and  mind,  a  vicarious 
sacrifice  for  the  people  he  had  served.  Though 
I  know  of  no  other  such  man  as  this,  yet  I  do 
know  that,  in  different  ways,  in  accordance 
with  different  temperaments  and  different 
communities,  other  men  are  denying  them- 
selves much  which,  being  human,  they  prize  — 
comfort,  advancement,  congenial  friends,  ap- 
preciation, even  opportunities  for  their  own 
mental  and  moral  growth  —  in  order  that  they 
may  put  what  vitality  they  have  into  lethargic 
communities.  In  brief,  then,  I  look  for  a 
steady  renewal  of  religious  life  in  'New  Eng- 
land, first,  because  I  think  the  economic  pro- 
cess which  has  resulted  in  its  present  lethargy 
has  spent  its  force  and  in  some  places  is  being 
reversed ;  second,  because  many  of  the  younger 
generation  of  ministers,  governed  by  the  behef 
that  nothing  human  is  outside  of  the  sphere  of 
religion,  are  giving,  with  no  small  cost  to 
themselves,  which  is  the  more  praiseworthy  as 
well  as  the  more  effectual  because  largely  un- 
premeditated, the  benefit  of  their  intelligent 
energy  to  supply  the  very  diverse  needs  of 
their  communities. 

As   the   South   develops,  is  it   likely  to   go 
through  the  same  transition  as  that  which  is 


348  SATIS  SUPERQUE 

observable  in  ^ew  England?  Without  at- 
tempting to  dogmatize,  I  think  I  can  say  pretty 
confidently  that  it  is  not.  For  at  least  these 
three  reasons:  In  the  first  place,  the  economic 
and  social  changes  that  have  been  taking  place 
in  the  South  during  the  past  generation  have 
been  very  different  from  those  which  have  been 
taking  place  in  'New  England  —  in  some  re- 
spects quite  opposite  to  them.  I  do  not  need 
to  point  out  the  contrast  in  detail  ;  it  is  too 
well  known.  The  effect  of  economic  change 
upon  a  Southern  rural  community  I  have 
already  had  occasion  to  point  out  in  the  chap- 
ter on  "A  Virginia  Country  Rector."  It  is 
sufficient  here  to  say  that  whereas  the  typical 
New  Englander  of  to-day  is  reminiscently  de- 
spondent, his  typical  Southern  contemporary  is 
hopeful;  the  former  has  felt  the  loss  of  social 
vitality,  the  latter  is  just  beginning  to  feel  its 
influx.  With  this  difference  between  the  eco- 
nomic conditions  of  New  England  and  those 
of  the  South,  their  religious  conditions  cannot 
be  the  same.  In  the  second  place,  the  ortho- 
doxy of  the  South,  though  it  is  quite  as  tradi- 
tional and  in  form  is  quite  as  stern  as  that  of 
IS^ew  England  ever  was,  is  by  no  means  marked 
by  the  actual  practical  austerities  that  made  the 


SATIS  SUPERQTJE  349 

Calvinism  of  Puritan  Kew  England  at  last 
unendurable.  Though  there  are  in  the  South 
many  of  the  same  mind  with  the  Presbyterian 
minister  who  in  conversation  with  me  protested 
against  the  belief  in  the  universal  Fatherhood 
of  God  and  the  brotherhood  of  all  men  as  a 
virtual  denial  of  the  Christian  faith,  they  belie 
their  harsh  theories  by  the  habitual  suavity  of 
their  manner  and  kindliness  of  their  heart.  There 
can  hardly  be  the  same  reaction  against  Southern 
orthodoxy  as  there  has  been  against  the  Puri- 
tanical rigor  of  the  North.  In  the  third  place, 
as  is  indicated  in  the  chapter  on  "]^ew  Ten- 
dencies in  the  Old  South,"  theological  ideas  dis- 
tinctly at  variance  with  traditional  religious 
theories  are  being  diffused  very  gradually  and 
quietly  through  the  South,  almost  without 
observation.  They  made  their  way  in  very 
different  fashion  in  ISTew  England  —  creating 
turbulence,  dissension,  enmities,  and  schisms. 
The  difference  is  that  between  a  conquering 
army  of  invaders  and  a  vast  number  of  quietly 
straggling  immigrants.  The  modern  concep- 
tions that  descended  upon  'New  England  as 
young  and  immature  soldiers  with  the  roar  of 
cannon  have  in  the  course  of  years  become  good 
citizens,  and  are  now  going  South  as  responsible 


350  SATIS   SUPERQUE 

middle-aged  homesteaders.  There  they  are 
meeting  with  suspicion,  bnt  not  with  armed  re- 
sistance. The  South  is  undoubtedly  undergoing 
a  transition  from  old  to  new  religious  ideas, 
but  the  process  is  likely  to  be  not  revolutionary 
but  gradual,  peaceful,  and  possibly  therefore 
the  more  thorough. 

Is  the  religious  condition  of  the  negro  improv- 
ing or  deteriorating?  Concerning  the  negro 
race  as  a  whole  I  have  already  expressed  the 
judgment  that  no  safe  generalization  can  be 
made.  This,  however,  can  be  said  with  cer- 
tainty, that  the  race  is  showing  both  the  good 
and  the  ill  effects  of  liberty.  Large  numbers 
are  wholly  unfit  for  conditions  of  freedom,  and 
are  rapidly  succumbing  to  their  environment. 
Such  show  their  deterioration  physically,  mor- 
ally, and  religiously,  by  their  susceptibility  to 
disease,  their  non-resistance  to  evil,  and  their 
lapse  from  even  the  hysterical  forms  of  religious 
emotionalism.  On  the  other  hand,  large  num- 
bers —  larger  than  is  generally  known  even  in 
the  South  —  have  found  in  the  conditions  of 
freedom  their  chance  for  physical,  moral,  and 
religious  development.  Among  such  the  de- 
velopment possibly  has  been  too  rapid,  too  much 
of  the  nature  of  sudden  reaction,  to  be  alto- 


SATIS   SUPEEQUE  351 

gether  wholesome.  One  negro  minister  said  — 
and  I  had  good  reason  to  vahie  his  judgment  in 
this  respect  —  that  his  congregation,  through 
fear  of  emotional  excesses,  to  which,  as  a  people, 
they  felt  themselves  to  be  peculiarly  liable,  had 
acquired  the  fault  of  unresponsiveness  and 
frigidity.  If  a  race  is  to  be  judged  by  its 
leaders,  the  religious  condition  of  the  negro  in 
the  South  has  much  in  it  of  promise. 

Signs  are  not  lacking  of  the  political  suprem- 
acy of  the  West;  what  is  its  religious  influ- 
ence? There  are  two  distinct  regions  in  what 
is  commonly  called  the  West;  between  the  Mid- 
dle West  and  the  pioneer  country  there  is  the 
strongest  kind  of  contrast.  ^N'either  of  them,  it 
seems  to  me,  is  influential  in  forming  theologi- 
cal conceptions;  both  of  them  are  influential  in 
suggesting  experiments  in  church  methods.  In 
these  respects  they  are  alike,  but,  as  far  as  I 
could  see,  in  no  other.  Before  going  to  the 
Middle  West  I  was  led  into  expecting  to  find  it 
governed  by  traditionalism.  In  that  I  was  mis- 
taken. The  Middle  West  is  no  more  enterpris- 
ing in  business  affairs  than  it  is  in  religious 
schemes.  Indeed,  nowhere  else  has  Christianity 
been  so  diversely  garbed  or  so  variously  vul- 
garized.    At  the   same   time,  religion   in  the 


352  SATIS  SUPERQUE 

Middle  West  is  essentially  conventional.  Its 
standards  are,  generally  speaking,  external 
rather  than  intrinsic.  This,  however,  is  only  a 
part  —  an  unfortunately  necessary  part  —  of  the 
process  by  which  a  composite  population  is  mak- 
ing itself  homogeneous.  The  social  conscious- 
ness which  is  a  result  of  that  process  has  fitted 
the  Middle  West  for  performing  what  is  and 
will  increasingly  continue  to  be  its  chief  service 
to  the  religious  life  of  the  N^ation  —  namely,  its 
constant  insistence,  partly  by  word,  more  effec- 
tively by  example,  upon  the  social  bearing  of 
religion.  The  pioneer  West,  in  distinction  from 
the  middle  region,  may  be  godless,  wicked,  sor- 
did —  though  I  do  not  say  that  it  is  —  but  above 
all  things  it  is  genuine.  It  is  probably  too  new 
and  too  isolated  to  have  much  influence  upon 
the  country  at  large,  but  what  influence  it 
exerts  in  religion  must  be  in  creating  and  inten- 
sifying the  hatred  of  sham  and  the  love  of 
reality  and  candor. 

How  much  of  an  ethical  force  are  the 
churches  of  this  country?  ]^ot  by  any  means 
so  great  as  they  ought  rightfully  to  be.  This 
is  partly  because  they  spend  so  much  time  in 
trying  to  satisfy  the  insatiable  human  craving 
for  superficial  speculative  philosophy  by  retail- 


SATIS  SUPERQUE  353 

ing  old  dogmas  supposed  to  be  true  because 
they  are  old,  or  by  manufacturing  new  creeds 
supposed  to  be  true  because  they  are  new.  It 
is  partly  also  because  they  too  frequently  lack 
the  courage  to  deal  plainly  with  specific  evils, 
for  fear  of  unpleasant  consequences.  Such 
courage  is  not  always  shown  as  it  was  by  those 
ministers  in  a  Southern  city  I  passed  through, 
who,  during  the  season  when  the  races  were 
exclusively  engrossing  the  attention  of  even 
members  of  their  churches,  preached  very 
directly  and  pointedly  against  the  then  preva- 
lent madness  of  gambling.  In  spite,  however, 
of  their  defects,  the  churches  are  a  tremen- 
dously strong  ethical  force  in  the  life  of  the 
people ;  though  I  know  superlatives  are  danger- 
ous, I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  the  strongest. 
Indeed,  the  churches  cannot  help  exerting  a 
very  distinct  ethical  influence,  if  only  for  the 
fact  that  they  are  constantly  engaged  in  mak- 
ing known  the  greatest  body  of  ethical  teach- 
ing in  the  world  —  the  Bible.  Even  men  who 
are  non-church-goers  are  frankly  shocked  when 
a  church  falls  away  from  high  ethical  standards. 
Nothing  can  more  definitely  indicate  the  extent 
of  the  Church's  ethical  influence.  The  fact  is 
that  the  Church  is  universally  subjected  to  a 


354  SATIS   SUPERQUE 

critical  estimate  according  to  ideals  by  which 
no  other  institution  is  measured.  In  compari- 
son with  such  ideals  the  Church  is  obviously 
defective  as  an  ethical  force;  in  comparison 
with  other  institutions  the  Church  is  immeasur- 
ably superior.  This  I  found  to  be  manifestly 
true  in  all  regions. 

Are  the  churches  intellectually  adjusted  to 
the  life  of  to-day?  There  is  no  weakness  of 
the  Church  which  I  found  more  obvious  than 
its  failure  to  adjust  itself  to  intellectual  stan- 
dards that  obtain  in  all  life  outside  the  Church. 
This  weakness  is  so  wide  in  its  extent  that  the 
church  which  is  intellectually  modern  is  usually 
self-complacent  —  not  to  say  intellectually 
snobbish  —  because  of  its  strength  in  this  one 
respect.  In  general,  ministers,  as  I  met  them, 
are  very  much  better  acquainted  with  contem- 
porary scientific  and  philosophic  thought,  and 
very  much  more  in  agreement  with  it,  than  lay- 
men. This,  of  course,  is  not  to  be  deplored; 
but  it  did  seem  to  me  deplorable  that  so  many 
ministers  among  those  with  whom  I  talked  felt 
themselves  subject  to  a  humiliating  supervision, 
and  not  infrequently  constraint,  exercised  by 
laymen  whose  mental  attitude  had  been  unaf- 
fected by  modern  knowledge,  except  to  be 
made  more  obstinately  traditional. 


SATIS  SUPEKQUE  355 

Is  the  Church  developing  or  losing  sympathy 
with  the  working  classes?  The  cases  I  saw  of 
conscious  attempts  to  fashion  the  Church  into 
shape  to  suit  the  demands  of  wage-earners 
were  sporadic.  Their  number,  I  think,  is  in- 
creasing. Such  attempts  are  indicative  of  a 
growing  desire  on  the  part  of  the  Church  to 
obliterate  in  religious  life  the  class  distinctions 
that  have  grown  up  in  consequence  of  present 
industrial  conditions.  I  think  that  along  with 
this  desire  is  a  growing  sympathy  with  labor 
organizations  as  forces  which,  in  spite  of  their 
frequent  exhibitions  of  unintelligence,  selfish- 
ness, and  rancor,  are  means  by  which  the 
Church  may  approach  and  benefit  large  num- 
bers of  men.  The  real  feeling  of  the  Church 
has  often  been  obscured,  as  I  have  once  before 
indicated,  by  the  attitude  of  superiority  affected 
by  men  and  women  prominent  in  the  Church, 
and  on  that  account  naturally  but  mistakenly 
supposed  to  be  representative  of  it. 

If  the  working  classes  are  perceptibly  losing 
their  confidence  in  the  Church,  what  is  to  be  the 
outcome?  Can  it  be  determined  by  anything 
that  the  Church,  and  sincere  believers  and 
workers  in  the  Church,  can  do  to  bring  the 
Church  back  to  the  people?  The  outcome  of 
the  present  relation  between  the  Church  and 


356  SATIS  SUPERQUE 

such  working  people  as  are  not  of  the  Church 
can  be  determined  only  by  the  Church.  The 
burden  of  bringing  about  a  change  rests  upon 
the  Church,  not  upon  the  alienated  classes. 
That  the  burden  does  not  justly  belong  alto- 
gether where  it  actually  rests  will  make  no 
difference  in  the  degree  of  its  weight.  Indeed, 
it  is  one  function  of  the  Church  to  bear  unjust 
conditions,  as  its  Master  did,  and  by  bearing 
cure  them.  Without  question  the  willingness 
to  accept  the  entire  responsibility  of  securing 
the  confidence  of  those  workingmen  who  are 
now  indifferent  or  antagonistic  exists  in  the 
Church;  but  it  lacks  adequate  expression. 
The  Church  needs  to  direct  its  power  of  intol- 
erance—  of  which  it  has  sufficient — against 
those  of  its  own  constituency  who  are  misrep- 
resenting it  and  denying  the  spirit  of  its  faith 
by  intensifying  class  antagonism.  One  thing 
that  the  sincere  believers  and  workers  in  the 
Church  can  do  to  bring  back  the  Church  to  the 
people  is  to  follow  in  this  respect  the  guidance 
of  its  ministers  rather  than  its  "pillars."  In 
the  meantime  the  sympathy  that  is  too  little 
expressed  is  more  effective  than  is  ordinarily 
known.  Here  it  may  be  opportune  to  observe 
that,  in  spite  of  a  frequently  expressed  opinion 


SATIS  SUPERQUE  357 

to  the  contrary,  the  Church  holds  popular  con- 
fidence to  a  remarkable  degree.  This  can  be 
especially  seen  when  any  great  philanthropic 
service  is  to  be  rendered;  the  appeal  is  first  of 
all  to  the  Church.  This  is  true  whether  the 
project  is  the  building  of  a  village  school-house 
or  the  relief  of  destitution  following  some  great 
calamity  of  national  importance. 

Is  there  a  tendency  toward  Christian  unity, 
not  of  organization,  but  of  feeling?  In  other 
words,  are  Christian  people  pulling  together  or 
pulling  apart?  The  accounts  I  heard  concerning 
the  sharp  practices  employed  by  ministers  to 
gain  advantages  over  what  they  counted  rival 
denominations  made  belief  in  a  real  and  earnest 
tendency  toward  Christian  unity  very  difficult. 
For  instance,  one  Episcopal  rector,  of  it  mat- 
ters not  where,  told  me  how  he  had  been  ob- 
structed in  his  plan  to  enlarge  a  mission  which 
his  church  maintained.  He  had  gone  to  a 
woman,  a  relative  of  his,  but  an  adherent  of 
another  denomination,  to  purchase  from  her  a 
lot  of  land  in  the  vicinity  of  his  mission,  for 
a  new  building.  Her  pastor  being  informed  of 
this  fact,  and  knowing  that  the  Episcopal  mis- 
sion was  in  a  critical  period  because  it  was 
forced  to  move,  privately  induced  his  parish- 


358  SIATIS  SUPERQUE 

ioner  to  give  this  land  to  her  own  church  for  a 
new  mission,  as  a  rival  to  that  which  had  al- 
ready been  long  established  as  the  only  one  in 
the  immediate  region.  When  asked  by  the 
rector  for  an  explanation,  he  showed  pride  in 
his  strategic  move,  making  as  his  only  defense 
the  gratuitous  assumption,  "  You  would  have 
done  the  same  thing  if  you  had  been  in  my 
place."  Another  minister.  Congregational, 
told  me  that  to  his  town,  in  which  his  was  the 
only  church,  came  a  visiting  minister  of  another 
denomination,  with  the  purpose  of  establishing 
a  "second  church.  The  Congregational  minis- 
ter, believing  that  this  church  should  be  estab- 
lished if  it  were  needed,  gave  the  visitor  not 
only  a  welcome  but  an  opportunity  to  state  his 
case  from  the  pulpit  of  the  Congregational 
church.  After  accepting  the  hospitality  and 
making  his  appeal,  the  visitor  undertook,  before 
he  left  the  church  building,  to  induce  one  of 
the  more  active  of  his  host's  congregation  to 
enter  the  rival  enterprise  he  was  trying  to 
establish.  IS^o  amount  of  merely  sentimental 
talk  about  common  aims  for  the  salvation  of 
souls  can  make  much  real  headway  against  such 
violations  of  strict  honesty  and  ordinary  cour- 
tesy as  these.     My  experiences,  however,  lead 


SATIS  SUPERQUE  359 

me  to  believe  that  such  practices  are  excep- 
tional, and,  when  they  occur,  are  reprehended 
by  the  public  opinion  of  the  churches.  Against 
them  the  real  counteracting  force  is  to  be  found 
in  movements  for  the  united  action  of  churches 
and  Christian  people. 

Is  there  any  possibility,  however  remote,  of  a 
working  union  of  the  various  Protestant  sects? 
I  think  that  such  possibility  is  indicated  by  the 
various  instances  which  came  under  my  obser- 
vation of  organic  effort :  ministers' associations, 
church  federations,  and  other  interdenomi- 
national movements,  especially  those  among 
young  people,  those  for  moral  reform,  and 
those  for  missionary  enterprise.  N^othing  that 
I  observed  gave  any  sign  of  the  form  which  a 
future  working  union  of  Protestant  denomina- 
tions might  take.  Of  only  one  thing  concern- 
ing it  can  I  speak  with  any  confidence.  Unless 
present  tendencies  are  reversed,  such  union  will 
come  about  through  the  desire,  not  for  agree- 
ment in  doctrine,  nor  for  outward  parade  of 
power,  but  for  effectiveness  in  practical  reli- 
gious activity. 

Of  what  value  are  those  institutions  of  Chris- 
tianity which  are  external  to  the  Church? 
Their  value  'to  the  Church,  as  I  have  already 


360  SATIS  SUPERQUE 

indicated  in  the  answers  to  the  two  preceding 
questions,  consists  in  the  fact  that  they  are  rudi- 
mentary forms  of  a  working  union  of  the  differ- 
ent branches  of  the  Church.  More  than  that, 
they  are  .doing  things  which  the  churches  as 
such  have  been  unable  or  have  simply  neglected 
to  do.  I  found  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association  notable  in  both  these  respects. 
These  modern  extra-church  institutions,  as  they 
may  be  termed,  seem  to  be  doing  for  the  Protes- 
tant Church  of  America  what  the  monastic  and 
mendicant  orders  did  for  the  Catholic  Church 
of  the  Middle  Ages.  The  parallel  is,  of  course, 
far  from  being  exact,  but  it  is  close  enough  to 
suggest  that  the  Church  of  to-day  will  be  wise 
if  it  will  accept  and  make  use  of  these  institu- 
tions as  the  Church  of  the  Middle  Ages  accepted 
and  made  use  of  the  orders. 

In  regard  to  commonplace  virtues,  such  as 
temperance,  industry,  and  the  sense  of  obliga- 
tion on  the  part  of  those  who  have  wealth  or 
education  or  other  advantages,  is  the  present 
tendency  upward  or  downward?  In  spite  of 
some  experiences  which  left  me  in  the  mood  to 
distrust  every  appearance  of  virtue  and  decency, 
I  found  myself  at  the  end  of  my  journey  firmly 
believing  that  the  present  ethical  tendency  is 


SATIS  STJPERQUE  361 

upward.  So  far  as  I  could  compare  my  obser- 
vation with  testimony  as  to  past  conditions,  I 
should  say  that  moral  standards  among  Ameri- 
cans to-day  are  much  less  formal  and  provincial 
than  they  were  a  generation  or  so  ago,  much 
saner,  much  more  fundamental ;  based  less  upon 
precept,  more  upon  principle.  For  instance, 
there  is  probably  more  drinking  but  less  drunk- 
enness ;  certainly  much  more  respect  and  regard 
for  those  whose  convictions  lead  them  to  estab- 
lish their  own  temperance  by  practicing  total 
abstinence,  while  there  is  less  vituperation  for 
those  who  do  not  see  any  necessity  for  practic- 
ing total  abstinence  in  order  to  establish  their 
own  temperance.  Idleness  has  never,  I  think, 
been  a  characteristically  American  fault;  I 
could  not  learn  that  it  had  increased,  though  I 
did  see  very  plainly  that  in  time  spent  for  rec- 
reation there  had  been  a  very  decided  increase 
over  the  time  so  spent  a  generation  ago.  There 
seemed  to  me  to  be  on  the  part  of  many  individ- 
uals a  greater  sense  than  ever  of  responsibihty 
to  society.  This  is  one  phase,  of  course,  of  the 
social  consciousness  the  increase  of  which  was 
evident  everywhere  I  traveled. 

Is  the  devotional  spirit  in  religious  life  in- 
creasing or  decreasing?    Although  in  general 


362  SATIS  SUPERQUE 

the  tendency  in  religious  life  in  America  seems 
to  be  toward  a  keener  ethical  sensitiveness 
rather  than  toward  a  devouter  sentiment,  the 
effect  of  my  experiences  was  to  increase  my 
sense  of  the  value  and  the  real  permanence  of 
personal  religious  feeling.  This  seems  at  first 
sight  to  be  in  face  of  the  fact  that  there  were 
signs  almost  everywhere  that  the  traditional 
forms  by  which  such  devoutness  has  been 
expressed  by  Protestants  —  such  as  the  "  prayer- 
meeting"  and  the  "experience-meeting"  — 
are  decadent.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  thor- 
oughly in  accord  with  the  fact  that  there  were 
signs  almost  everywhere  that  the  use  of  liturgy 
in  public  worship  is  becoming  more  and  more 
prevalent.  What  often  has  been  and  still  is 
deplored  as  a  loss  of  spiritual  life  is  to  no 
small  extent  really  an  improvement  in  taste. 
In  other  words,  it  is  becoming  more  and  more 
recognized  that  spiritual  beauty  cannot  be  cul- 
tivated without  formal  beauty ;  and,  as  there  is 
no  trace  of  formal  beauty  in  the  ordinary 
prayer-meeting,  that  some  other  means  of  cul- 
tivating spiritual  beauty  must  be  used.  The 
substitution  of  liturgy  for  the  prayer-meeting 
is,  however,  more  than  a  sign  of  improved  taste ; 
it  is  a  result  of  changed  feelings  regarding  the 


SATIS   SUPERQUE  363 

devotional  life.  N^ot  long  ago  devout  Chris- 
tians saw  no  impropriety  in  talking  openly  and 
publicly  about  their  most  intimate  religious 
experiences  for  the  edification  of  other  Chris- 
tians and  the  conversion  of  the  unregenerate. 
]N^ow  a  growing  number  of  Christian  people 
feel  that  to  make  a  routine  matter  of  public 
talking  about  intimate  religious  experiences  not 
only  vulgarizes  those  experiences,  but  also 
fosters  self-complacency  and  invites  cant  and 
false  pretense.  They  are  consequently  reserv- 
ing their  intimate  religious  experiences  for  their 
own  private  devotions,  and  for  public  devotion 
find  satisfaction  in  those  forms  which  so  express 
common  human  needs  and  common  human 
aspirations  that  a  few  or  many  who  are  gath- 
ered together  may  unite  not  merely  in  hearing 
a  clergyman  worship  for  them,  but  in  the  very 
act  of  worship  itself.  I  have  not  the  space  here 
to  show  how  the  historic  liturgies  also  allow 
for  the  observance  of  private  devotions  at  the 
same  time  with  public  worship,  so  that  each  may 
be  helped  by  the  other,  nor  how  the  abandon- 
ment of  the  prayer-meeting  does  not  mean  the 
abandonment  of  the  best  means  for  cultivating 
religious  experience.  I  have  said  enough,  how- 
ever, to  show  why  I  believe  the  decadence  of 


364  SATIS  SUPERQUE 

the  devotional  spirit  because  of  the  desuetude 
of  the  prayer-meeting  is  more  apparent  than 
real.  The  chief  present  impediment  to  the 
growth  of  the  devotional  spirit  is  not  the  com- 
mercial spirit  of  the  day,  much  less  the  increased 
practical  activities  of  the  Church,  but  the  fruit- 
less attempts  on  the  part  of  both  ministers  and 
laymen  to  preserve  a  religious  form  which, 
though  of  comparatively  modern  origin  as  a 
regular  institution  of  the  Church,  is  totally 
unsuited  to  the  legitimate,  not  to  say  whole- 
some, tendencies  of  the  people.  I  say  whole- 
some, because  I  believe  that  much  of  the  public 
expression  of  personal  experience,  which  the 
present  tendency  is  to  abandon,  is  likely  to 
make  the  individual  self-centered  and  con- 
spicuous. 

Is  there  more,  or  is  there  less,  of  reverence, 
more  or  less  of  moral  stalwartness,  in  the 
life  of  American  homes?  Unquestionably 
much  in  present  social  conditions  is  full  of 
danger  to  the  continuance  of  wholesome  family 
life.  This  danger  is  quite  as  apparent  in  peace- 
ful rural  districts  as  in  the  big  cities.  Cer- 
tainly the  religious  life  of  the  ordinary  Ameri- 
can family  is  not  as  conspicuous  as  it  once 
was.     I    am   inclined  to   think,   on   the    other 


SATIS  SUPERQUE  365 

hand,  that  there  has  been  a  markedly  mcreased 
recognition  of  the  need  of  early  moral  and 
spiritual  training  of  children.  The  fact  is  that 
family  life  is  rather  too  intimate  for  the  ordi- 
nary observer  to  see  much  of  or  to  talk  much 
about. 

What  is  the  general  tendency  of  views 
regarding  the  Bible?  People  in  America  may 
be  divided  into  two  categories,  determined  by 
their  attitude  toward  the  Bible.  These  may 
be  called,  for  convenience,  the  literalists  and 
the  idealists.  The  literalists  are  those  who 
believe  that  religious  faith  should  be  molded  by 
the  Bible;  that  the  Bible  is  the  only  true 
source  of  Christian  belief.  This  category  is 
not  made  up  wholly  of  those  who  are  adhe- 
rents of  the  Church;  indeed,  most  of  the  people 
who  are  unconnected  with  any  church  take  this 
point  of  view  by  assuming  that  no  one  is  a 
Christian  unless  he  derives  his  beliefs  from  the 
Bible.  It  is  from  the  literalists  —  both  adhe- 
rents and  non-adherents  of  the  Church  —  that 
the  new  sects  derive  their  supporters.  By 
simply  persuading  people  that  the  Bible  incul- 
cates the  belief  in  a  visible  return  of  Christ,  or 
the  practice  of  feet-washing,  or  the  sacrament 
of  triple  immersion,  or  the  obligation  to  treat 


366  SATIS   SUPERQUE 

disease  without  medicine,  these  sects  multiply 
their  converts.  The  reason  why  so  many 
literalists  are  not  enrolled  in  the  churches  is 
not  because  they  do  not  sufficiently  accept  the 
authority  of  the  Bible,  but  because,  through  the 
multiplicity  of  disagreeing  interpreters,  they 
are  confused  in  their  minds  as  to  what  the 
Bible  really  does  definitely  teach.  Some  man 
—  or  woman  —  with  vigorous,  domineering  per- 
sonality, who  can  make  his  interpretations  of 
Scripture  more  definite  to  the  popular  mind  than 
rival  sectarian  leaders,  is  the  chief  explanation 
of  every  one  of  several  remarkable  cults  that 
have  spread  in  America.  In  contrast  to  the 
literalists  are  the  idealists,  as  those  may  be 
termed  who  assume  that  religion  is  not  the 
product  of  a  book,  but  that  the  Book  is  a 
product  of  religion.  They  believe  that  religion 
is  not  obedience  to  a  recorded  law,  but  a  life 
whose  motive  power  is  the  Infinite  Spirit. 
They  accept  the  Bible  not  as  the  source  of  that 
life  but  as  a  means  for  its  development.  To 
them  interpretations  of  the  Bible  are  of  great  but 
not  of  supreme  importance.  Over  these  idealists, 
using  the  term  in  this  very  limited  and  inac- 
curate sense,  no  sect  based  merely  on  an  ex- 
planation of  Scripture  text  can  have  much  if 


SATIS  SUPERQTJE  367 

any  influence.  The  literal! sts  in  America  to- 
day are  quite  as  dependent  upon  the  letter  as 
literalists  always  have  been.  The  idealists, 
however,  are  much  more  in  accord  with  modern 
intellectual  tendencies,  and,  though  probably 
very  much  in  the  minority,  are,  in  my  opinion, 
decidedly  growing  in  numbers  and  influence. 
This  is  particularly  true  of  clergymen. 

Is  there  any  likelihood  that  the  experience  of 
this  country  will  be  like  that  of  France,  where, 
as  is  commonly  supposed,  there  is  a  definite 
line  of  demarcation  between  the  few  devoted 
adherents  of  the  Church,  composed  chiefly  of 
clerics  and  women,  and  the  great  body  of  the 
population,  which  is  indifferent  to  the  Church, 
except  as  an  institution  for  the  performance  of 
certain  formalities?  Decidedly  and  emphati- 
cally, no.  For  three  reasons.  To  paraphrase 
the  saying  of  Demosthenes,  the  first  is  Hberty, 
the  second  is  liberty,  and  the  third  is  liberty. 

In  the  first  place,  the  religious  impulse  in 
America,  quite  otherwise  than  in  France,  has 
been  left  free  from  political  interference.  In 
France,  as  indeed  in  a  large  part  of  Europe,  a 
man's  attitude  toward  the  Church  is  determined, 
not  only  by  religious  faith,  but  also  by  political 
considerations.     In  the  United  States,  a  man  in 


368  SATIS  SUPERQUE 

determining  his  attitude  toward  the  Church  is 
free  to  be  governed  solely  by  religious  motive. 
That  there  is  a  difference  in  effect  from  this 
difference  of  condition  is  obvious. 

In  the  second  place,  religion  in  America  has 
been  allowed  to  meet  knowledge  freely,  on  an 
open  field.  In  France  religion  is  confined,  on 
the  one  hand,  to  the  ignorant  and  superstitious 
who  are  not  bothered  with  intellectual  difficul- 
ties, and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  highly  educated 
few  who  have  the  trained  vision  to  see  that  re- 
ligion is  not  identical  with  its  traditional  forms. 
The  great  bulk  of  the  people  who  have  know- 
ledge enough  to  see  that  traditional  forms  of  re- 
ligion are  incompatible  with  reality,  and  yet  who 
have  not  knowledge  enough  to  see  that  these 
traditional  forms  are  not  identical  with  religion, 
are,  for  the  most  part,  those  who  are  alienated. 
In  America  the  very  weakness  of  Christianity 
—  namely,  its  multiple  forms  —  is  its  strength ; 
for  it  is  constant  evidence  that  these  forms  can- 
not be  religion.  Religion  in  America  is  prob- 
ably vaguer,  but  it  is  not  impossible  to  the 
ordinary  intelligence,  as  it  is  in  France.  The 
recent  religious  movements  among  students  in 
American  colleges  offer  a  concrete  illustration 


SATIS  SUPERQUE  369 

of  the  effect  that  intellectual  liberty  has  had  in 
preserving  religious  vitality  in  America. 

In  the  third  place,  the  people  of  America  are 
intellectually  and  morally  free  to  follow  the 
guidance  of  intellectual  and  moral  leaders.  It 
has  been  shown  that  in  America  it  takes  about 
a  generation  for  a  new  idea,  well  established  by 
experts,  to  become  popularly  disseminated  and 
accepted.  It  has  been  true  in  politics,  in  educa- 
tion, in  religion,  more  than  once.  A  professor 
of  Church  history  once  was  asked  by  a  student 
whether  a  statement  regarding  the  early  Church 
made  by  a  professor  of  philosophy  was  sound. 
"  ]N^o,"  was  the  answer ;  "  that  was  the  hypothe- 
sis thirty  years  ago,  but  a  different  conclusion 
has  since  been  definitely  established.  Church 
history  is  not  his  department,  so  he  is  about 
thirty  years  behind  the  Church  historians.  I 
suppose  I  am  about  thirty  years  behind  the 
metaphysicians."  Each  of  those  professors 
represented  in  turn  the  people,  while  the  other 
represented  the  leader.  If,  therefore,  the  pres- 
ent position  of  leaders  in  religious  thought  can 
be  accepted  as  a  guide,  future  religious  life  in 
America  will  be  marked  by  tendencies  toward 
a  religion    less   dependent    upon    intellectual 


370  SATIS    SUPERQUE 

liypotheses,  and  therefore  less  timid  of  intel- 
lectual change;  toward  a  faith  less  dependent 
upon  the  external  bulwark  of  literalism;  toward 
a  less  materialistic  interpretation  of  life;  toward 
a  religion  more  ethical  in  character;  toward  a 
desire  for  beauty  of  religious  expression,  at  any 
rate  in  public  worship ;  toward  a  more  confident 
belief  in  the  reality  of  religious  experience;  and 
toward  a  more  frequent  recourse  to  the  Chris- 
tian Church  in  its  various  forms  and  through 
its  various  instrumentalities,  not  so  much  for 
doctrine  as  for  the  expression  of  devotional 
feeling,  for  ethical  impulse,  and  for  opportunities 
of  doing  good  after  the  teaching  and  practice  of 
Jesus  of  ^N^azareth. 


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